Beyond Paradise 2
by cleon24769
Summary: Fan's continuation/sequel - The Planet is saved, but the people are not happy. A new rebel group rises against AVALANCHE and our heroes must find a way to calm the people and stop the leaders from fulfilling their psychotic dreams. Yuffentine; minor CloTi —[05/10/2013 UPDATE] Overhaul in progress. Estimated completion: August 30, 2013. Please stand by. —
1. Prologue

**Beyond Paradise II**

_Disclaimer: I do not own Yuffie, Vincent, or anything/anybody else in this fiction, they belong to Square Enix. I also don't own previously established fictitious characters such as Moira, Zeb, or Jethro. They were created by the original fan fic's author, tolerant. This is not an "official" sequel by the original author, more like a tribute by me since the original has been discontinued, unfortunately. I am not affiliated with tolerant in any way, shape, or form (other than being a fan, of course)._

[04/27/2013 Quick Note: I think I might be coming back to this. Please, be patient. I've been quietly practicing my writing on an independent project for the past few years now, and lately, out of the blue, I've been entertaining the idea of conducting a major overhaul for this entire story. Why have I seemingly disappeared, you may be asking? I got so cocky with BP2 that I wrote things I never should have. In fact, it got to the point where I've been cringing in disgust every time I've thought back to this work. I hope to change this.]

**Author's note: Since the original Beyond Paradise by tolerant (story id: 1927645) has been discontinued with no updates for over 4 years, I decided to pick up where the original story left off in it's semi-cliffhanger. I was impressed with Beyond Paradise in comparison with the numerous other Yuffentine tales I've read due to it's emphasis on an adventurous, story-driven plot and especially believable character development, rather than the straight "jumping into the love-making" or whatnot I've observed in other fan fictions. I personally find this quite uncharacteristic of the two protagonists — but then again, this is a website for fan fiction where anything goes, so to each there own, of course! Anyways, in Beyond Paradise, similar to the series canon, Vincent is a quiet, serious, and outwardly stoic person who purposely distances himself from all others while mentally suppressing his literal demons within, in stark contrast to Yuffie's childishly immature, playfully outgoing and endlessly talkative nature. Yet, seemingly against many odds, they somehow discover a connection and begin forming a close (albeit unlikely, particularly on the secluded gunslinger's part) bond. Despite that, it still remains a "believable" Yuffentine that looks as if it could actually really fit within the FF7 mythos and fill in the rich, though untouched, gap between FF7 and Advent Children. I present you with my sequel tribute to my favorite Yuffentine story by far, starting with a prologue (in actuality, the first half of which being the very last scene of the very last chapter from the unfinished Beyond Paradise) to "bridge the gap," so to speak. Honestly, I'm not used to writing in a few of tolerant's literary mannerisms, but to preserve a more authentic feel, I will do my best where I feel them applicable.**

**Also like in the original, tolerant made a habit to include various poems by Shel Silverstein in the beginning of all her chapters, explaining that they each had a subtle little connection to their respective chapters. I've chosen to continue this practice, but differently. The Silverstein poems seem to relate to Yuffie, so for most of the "sequel" I'm using a different writer with tidbits that apply a little bit more to Vincent this time around (But if not, they will still be less bubbly than the Silverstein ones), something I'm really looking forward to.**

**Finally, I highly suggest you read the original Beyond Paradise not only for being a great piece of fan fiction, but to actually understand what the story is and who the original author's created characters are, as jumping straight into this "sequel" may just confuse you. Nevertheless, I will still do what I can in allowing this to stand alone as much as possible).  
**

* * *

_Never hunger, never prosper  
__I have fallen prey to failure__  
Struggle within, triggered again  
__Now the candle burns at both ends__  
Twisting under schizophrenia  
Falling deep into dementia_

_The Frayed Ends of Sanity  
- James Hetfield_

**- Prologue: Promises Are For Keeping**

_AVALANCHE had won. AVALANCHE had saved the planet. But, the people they had risked their lives for were not happy, and a new group arose in the weeks following the events at North Crater who united under a banner against our heroes. They vowed revenge for everything they believe AVALANCHE was responsible for: all the recklessness, all the loved ones lost, and all the lives forever broken. Seeking answers and an end to the hostilities, AVALANCHE reunited once again a mere month after Meteorfall and set out to confront the leader of these rebels. The intention was to restore peace to what was supposed to be the much desired, and long-overdue, calm._

_Over the many days of their investigations, Vincent found himself regularly paired up with the young princess of Wutai, Yuffie, and subsequently began developing a sort of bond with the little ninja. This came as somewhat of a shock to the others. Sure, history was destined to paint their portrait as an unlikely band of faithful comrades, but in the earlier years, such a pairing proved to be nothing short of bewildering. The travels with Vincent Valentine before Meteorfall imprinted memories of the gunman as a quiet, apathetic man who refused to let anyone get too close to him. By the gods, however, Yuffie found a way, starting with that day she forbade the caped-man from returning to his coffin._

_After gaining a new ally in the form of the rebel leader's right-hand man, Jethro, and losing three beloved members of the team — Barret, Nanaki, and Reeve — to the comatose Dreamland conjured up by the evil magical jester known as Moira (a chaotic "pawn" of the rebel group's leader with a personal agenda of her own) who has been stalking the members of the group, Cloud, Tifa, Jethro, Yuffie, Vincent, and an injured Cid who is expected to recover on his own time, have set out to face off against Zeb, the enemy leader. They must remain alert during every mile of the journey, as Moira watches tirelessly. This is essential, as she has proven to hold the ability to simply blink in and out of existence. She also has the terrifying power to possess those in their slumber, and even spirit them away to an otherworldly plane. _

_Those left still able to fight make their way to Midgar with the burning desire to make the anti-AVALANCHE rebel leader, Zebadiah "Zeb" Mahonney, pay for everything he has done._

After a full day of walking, the downsized group set up camp and built a small fire to sit around. Yuffie, whom had been silent for the long walk after waking up in a fit of tears, sat herself down closest to the fire, arms wrapping tightly around drawn up knees. Tifa, worried about the girl while they walked on in silence, sat beside the little ninja, one hand resting lightly on the Wutaian's arm.

"Yuffie, are you alright?" The older woman tried to smile, but it came out far too fake. "You can tell me, you know..." This she was sincere about, but she couldn't smile. Not truly.

Yuffie shook her head and shrugged, more to remove Tifa's hand from her arm than to respond to anything. The hint was taken and Tifa slowly got up and left her to her thoughts.

There was an awkward silence as the others began to settle themselves around the fire, each trying to start a conversation, sans Vincent, but not knowing how. Cloud cleared his throat uncomfortably, figuring that if anyone was going to say something, it would have to be him. He opened his mouth and...

"I think, since Yuffie's slept for most of the day, she and I should keep watch as the others sleep," Jethro spoke up, smile and intentions apparent in his eyes. A shiver ran down his spine as four pairs of eyes glared straight through him. "Well, it would make sense..."

"He has a point. Yuffie has slept through most of the day... so she and _someone else_ will keep watch while the other three sleep," Cloud said, making a point that it wouldn't be Jethro alone with Yuffie.

The Wutaian snorted and stretched her legs out into a 'V', her torso falling between her legs and her arms stretching out in front of her, fingertips brushing the rocks around the small fire. "You talk like I'm not here, sheesh. Vinnie can stay up with me. At least I know he won't yammer my ear off." There was a pause as everyone seemed to attempt to register this joke. "Ugh, never mind! Go to sleep, Vincent and I will watch out for anything suspicious! ...like the tooth fairy."

Within a number of minutes, the three were asleep and all that remained was Yuffie, Vincent, and a dying fire.

"Sorry for forcing you into sentry duty again. You can go to sleep if you want," Yuffie said softly, gaze traveling to her silent companion.

Vincent didn't even look at her. "You didn't tell Tifa was what troubling you." It wasn't a question, but Vincent's statement did call for a response.

Yuffie shrugged and decided the fire was more interesting than a stone-still Vincent. "You eavesdrop on us?"

"It was so quiet that not listening is nearly impossible."

"Nearly, but can still be done. Never thought you had it in you, Mr. Big and Bad Valentine." She chuckled to herself and shook her head. "Nothing was or is wrong. I just had a bad dream."

"You woke up crying."

"Bad dream," Yuffie repeated, fighting not to glare at him. "It's over now. Let it go." A silence followed and Yuffie soon feared she had angered him. "Vinnie..?"

"What happened to your leg?" Vincent shifted slightly, but this movement managed to get him around the fire to sit beside the princess, human fingers pressing lightly on the bruise that had gone unseen until now.

Yuffie blinked down at the purple and black spot on her shin and, intelligently, poked her own finger into the center of it. "It doesn't hurt..." she said thoughtfully, poking at it again. Finally, she shrugged and stared back at the fire. "I probably got it from fighting that Zolom yesterday, in which you didn't help at all until the end," as if just the fact that he hadn't been there to help her out would jog his memory of the fight.

Vincent seemed to ignore this and turned watch the fire sizzle and die with its last breath. "It will be getting cold... You should go into the tent and sleep with the—"

"No!"

The outcry caught him by surprise and he shot her a quick glare.

A head popped out of the folds of the tent and Tifa stared tiredly at them. "Anything wrong?" she asked in the midst of a yawn. Both shook their heads and Tifa frowned slightly. "Then keep quiet..." And she was gone back into the tent.

Yuffie let out a heavy sigh and rubbed at the back of her head. "I guess this means no more talking, huh?" She looked up to Vincent and put up a lopsided grin. "That means shut up, Vinnie."

The caped man chose to make no comment and simply poked a stick into the embers of what was once a fire. Silence reigned and he could feel Yuffie shift uncomfortably beside him, fighting off the chills of the dark night. Soon, a smaller hand gently fell over the hand that held the stick and he stopped his attack on the embers.

"Yuffie..."

"I thought I said shut up," she half-whispered as she pried his fingers from the stick. "Be a gentleman and don't let me freeze," she continued, forcing his arm to drape lazily over her small shoulders, thus bringing the cape around with it so only her head popped up beside him. If anyone were to look now, they would believe Vincent had two heads instead of one.

_And if Barret or Cid were awake... they'd tell him he had five demons..._ Yuffie thought sadly to herself. "Tomorrow... we'll make Zeb pay for everything he's done," she murmured, taking in a deep breath to fight off the frustration Moira gave her in her dreams. Suddenly, the familiar scent from her dreams drowned her senses and her body stiffened. "Vincent!" she squirmed slightly beneath his arm and smiled up at him as he stared at her quizzically. "Thanks."

Vincent didn't know how to respond. The warmth from her body, the feeling of her heart beating, the scent that was only hers... It was confusing his demons and giving him a headache. He had to get her away from him. "Yuffie, I—"

"Vincent, stop talking. You'll wake everyone up," the Wutaian ninja said as she rested herself comfortably against him. "Oh, one more thing."

Vincent watched her from the corner of his eye, not wanting to be any closer than he already was. "Yes, Yuffie?"

"Protect me like Cloud does for Tifa..?" she knew it sounded stupid. Like it would come from a hopeless romantic. Well, Leviathan be damned if she wasn't one.

He found this to be strange, but no matter how much his mind screamed for him to avoid any and every subject that included the Wutaian princess, he found his voice breaking past his lips and speaking from what he had believed was a long-since dead emotion.

"Yes, Yuffie..."

—

Vincent found it hard to believe that Yuffie could bring herself to sleep after having done so for nearly half the entire day. That, coupled with the fact that she had just somberly told him that her fear of getting thrown into another nightmare was incentive enough to stay awake, prompted him to question the young girl's personal focus. Seeing as how it was typical Yuffie manner, however, he shrugged it off.

_"It was so real…" _he thought back to her explaining her nightmare, her voice in a trance-like murmur as if she was envisioning the dream at that very moment. "_She claimed the wasteland around me was the Promised Land. And there were hands. I think they were the dead, and I heard their voices, too. They all begged me to help them, and they pulled me down and wouldn't let go… until something saved me. "Someone" saved me, drove them away."_

She had been talking of Vincent. The familiar scent she spoke of turned out to be him, she explained. He didn't understand how he had truly helped. All he had done was carry her as she slumbered. He then rationalized that it may have been on a subconscious level.

In whatever case, she felt safe and secure with him. This was a realization which perplexed Vincent, no matter how much sense it may or may not have been making. He once again reminisced about the incident at the Ghost Hotel, when, while under possession by that jester, he had shot Yuffie. Why she continued to willingly stay around him, let alone having had chosen him, of all people, to talk over the dream she refused to share with even Tifa, was just one droplet amidst a myriad of thoughts that coursed through his mind on quiet occasions like this.

The midnight air was freezing, and with the fire gone, Yuffie would shift her body every so often to bury herself deeper and deeper into his warmth. It was a wonder that Vincent could keep still, because it wasn't so much a gentle kind of nuzzling like the movements of a cooing kitten, but a sudden jerk in a random direction as she mumbled something about various pastries. This didn't stop Vincent from staring blankly at the last dying embers of the exhausted bonfire, fixated on the demons that resided within the darkest recesses of his psyche. The howling winds of Chaos' existence appeared to be stronger than usual. To Vincent, they seemed colder and darker.

_What are you up to this time . . .? _Vincent thought to himself while stepping through the blank void.

He marched through the nothingness, eyes fixed forward even as the cackling, taunting figures of Death Gigas, Hellmasker, and the Galian Beast circled the mental vision of Vincent.

_"Chaos!" _he shouted.

The winged creature was slumped comfortably upon a simple stone throne covered in ice. Its eyes were shut in meditation, though fully aware of Vincent's presence.

_"Why have you been helping me? Why have you been helping Yuffie?"_

No response, as usual.

"_What do you want with her?" _

The three lesser demons laughed as they spun round on geometrical ends, eying the shadow.

"_I want some answers! Now!"_

Chaos wasn't even reacting at all.

Vincent stood there with his fist clenched in anger, glaring at the creature. Though they sometimes had their uses — Chaos' wisdom in particular being a desirable, yet rarely attainable and frustratingly cryptic, prize — he hated these demons, these vile tormentors that mocked him for sins long passed whenever he closed his eyes.

The eternal punishments he felt he deserved for what happened to Lucrecia all those years ago were burdens that he would have to frequently fight to control day in, day out, night after night. Sometimes, he could temporarily suppress them for long, glorious periods, and other times they ran free to anguish him mercilessly. It was an affliction that was for him and him alone to bear; always in his mind.

_"Damn it," _Vincent murmured with a heavy, defeated sigh as he dropped his fist and glared at the floor that was not there.

No matter how big or small, no matter how piercingly strident or deathly aloof, his demons seemed to find any way to add to his deepest-hid feelings of anguish and self-perceived uselessness. Though the lack of worth and self-esteem he used to feel incessantly had significantly receded since his adventures with the ragtag group of wayward misfits he'd come to accept as his friends, these things just knew exactly how to scratch and tear at his very soul. They were him, in a way. He felt like he was getting nowhere again, and began to think of just giving up this time. Vincent knew that besides their beastly groans and malicious cachinnations, they did not speak, though whether because they lacked the ability, or simply chose not to, was beyond him.

Out from the corners, a ghastly mist floated sluggishly past the mental vision of Vincent and settled in front of the frozen throne. It began to swirl. It happened slowly at first, but it gradually picked up speed, forming into a humanoid shape with distinct colors he recognized. Flashes of green and white stabilized into the solid form of a small, blue-haired girl in a jester outfit pulling her purple lips back into a sickening smile. The unexpected appearance of Moira, the puppet responsible for the horrible things that befell AVALANCHE, infuriated Vincent. His crimson eyes boiled at the jester's steely blues until the upper half of the young girl's face was obstructed from view by the sharp fingers of Chaos.

Her smile endured the grab, as if nothing had happened. The small bells that dotted the jester's outfit rang lightly as Vincent observed Chaos lifting the small figure, it's inhuman yellow hues transfixed on the gunslinger. With it's mouth opened wide in a fanged grin, a disturbingly sadistic enthusiasm streaking across the demon's leering pale face, it crushed the puppet's wooden head within it's fist with a sudden, effortless squeeze. Vincent stood quietly, watching the splinters sprinkle down to the shadowy floor. On top of that, the jester's wooden body crumpled itself into an awkward heap.

Chaos licked it's bottom lip in satisfaction and continued to gaze upon the mental vision of Vincent. The gunslinger had a bad feeling about what was to come.


	2. The Long Road Ahead

**Beyond Paradise II**

_Disclaimer: I do not own Yuffie, Vincent, or anything/anybody else in this fiction, they belong to Square Enix. I also don't own previously established fictitious characters such as Moira, Zeb, or Jethro. They were created by the original fan fic's author, tolerant. This is not an "official" sequel by the original author, more like a tribute by me since the original has been discontinued, unfortunately. I am not affiliated with tolerant in any way, shape, or form (other than being a fan, of course)._

[05/05/2013 Quick Note: And so begins the long road ahead of grammatically patching up, and retconning, Beyond Paradise 2 as well as I can. Unfortunately, over the years, I've seemed to have had misplaced all of my little crib notes which detailed the synopses of each individual chapter. This means that the blueprint for my original direction with BP2 is now gone, but I've still got the basics swimmin' round in the ol' noggin. Maybe this means I can continue on with a fresher perspective. Anyways, I sincerely hope to write and then post the last few chapters by midsummer's end, but I've promised things before that have sort of tapered off, so we should probably just take things in as they come.]

**Author's Note: Aww yeah, it's Friday. With no school, I slept in and then reread Beyond Paradise before starting on this for inspiration and pretty much to completely understand the story and bad guys as much as I could. Okay, here goes nothing. Seriously. Seriously, because I didn't pick up a damned thing.**

* * *

_I am writing these poems  
From inside a lion,  
And it's rather dark in here.  
So please excuse the handwriting  
Which may not be too clear.  
But this afternoon by the lion's cage  
I'm afraid I got too near.  
And I'm writing these lines  
From inside a lion,  
And it's rather dark in here._

It's Dark in Here  
-Shel Silverstein

**- Chapter 12: The Long Road Ahead  **

The crumpled timber corpse was squashed underfoot with a repulsive crunch. Chaos lurched its ominous form beneath a pair of leathery wings which creeped to their full span. Two embers flared at the vision of Vincent above a fanged grin that snapped with malevolent intent.

What had just transpired was all of his demons' doing. From too much experience, Vincent recognized it as a means for them to communicate enigmatic messages to their host. The last time this took place, Chaos was thrashing, throwing images of Yuffie and the jester girl in his mind. That had been relatively simple to decipher, but this newest one could entail a number of things. It was frustrating, but there was little he could do about it. They held more power over him in this realm, regardless of the fact that this was his own mind. The smartest thing to do was to figure out what they were getting at. Though, that was rarely easy, if that word were even applicable in such a context.

—

A cluster crouched down on the knoll, silhouetted against the moon behind them. They studied the pair seated together before the dead fire. The unmoving postures of Yuffie and Vincent were taken as a sign that they were asleep. The creatures scurried forth with all caution and darted from cover to cover. Every so often, they'd freeze at Yuffie's spasms, then lay patiently for the next moment to advance through the grass. Minutes went by, and the campsite's perimeter was finally breached. Two shadows approached in silence, their paws simply toeing the dirt with each stride. Then, as if by chance, Yuffie twitched so sharply underneath Vincent's arm that she slid off.

Yuffie grunted once her drool-covered cheek fattened itself against the ground. Whining softly, she rubbed the pain away. At this, claws were unsheathed, and the animals charged. Yuffie heard the footsteps coming some distance from behind the tent, and her heart began pounding. They were too numerous to be any of her two-legged friends. She blinked hard and tore at her tired eyes with her forearm to see nothing but blank. She was curled within Vincent's cloak. She shoved the tattered ends out of her face to find something growing in size with terrifying speed.

"What the —? Whoa!"

She was about to be tackled by some sort of sable-scaled cat. Her reflexes took over and she sprang up to her knees. She then dove to her side just as the smoking carcass of her attacker crashed over what used to be the campfire. The next beast was just as unlucky. It leaped onto Yuffie — fangs inches away from connecting — only to be catapulted by the strength of her legs and the physics of rolling. Afterwards, the echoes of Vincent's shots crackled across the plains.

Cloud, Tifa, and then Jethro spilled out of the tent, thanks to the latter due to his hurried shove. Tifa was the first on her feet, which took her straight to Yuffie. She anxiously checked the teenager for injuries and thanked the gods quietly when none such were found.

"You guys okay?" Cloud asked. He stood as if no comical stumble had occurred.

"What the hell do you think?" Yuffie screeched. "Do you have any idea how close I came to winding up as the main course on some fuzzy, little monster's luxuriously delectable, five-star restaurant's signature dish?" Nobody said a word. "This close!" She threw up her thumb and index finger. "Look at how close my fingers are, but they're not touching. Do you see it? Look at them!"

Cloud gently brushed the hand pressed against his nose away. "I see it, Yuffie," he said. "We're just glad you two are okay."

Jethro suddenly snickered.

"And just what is so funny?" Yuffie demanded.

"Nothing," he said, shrugging. "I mean, isn't _five-star signature dish_ blowing it up a little bit? I believe you would've been more of a kid's meal from the value menu."

If nobody could hear the crickets chirping in the night yet, they certainly could by then.

"You know, that joke just sounds extremely weird coming from you, after you consider the extremely weird way you've been treating Yuffie." Tifa stuck her fists on her hips and leaned in close to his face. "And by extremely weird, I mean extremely wrong."

Jethro smiled nervously at her, leaned back, and waved his palms side to side. "Sorry," he said. Although slenderly built and, to say the least, interestingly measured, an irate and protective Tifa Lockhart would be one of the the last persons he'd dare to provoke.

"Damn right, you're sorry! And look at big, bad Vincent. You sense these kinds of things faster than all of us combined! Weren't you supposed to jump in, like, five hundred miles before they even got to me?"

"Aw, lighten up, Yuffs," Cloud said. "He's only human, after all."

"Oh, please!" She marched up to Vincent with exaggerated stomps and poked him square in the chest. "You didn't even hear them coming! If I hadn't dashed in to the rescue, you'd be eating dust right now. You should be thanking me, you know. I just saved your oblivious, crimson butt!"

Tifa raised a finger. "Well, to be fair, Yuffie, Vincent has had, pretty much, zero sleep for about three days straight."

"And because of who, I wonder?" asked Cloud.

Yuffie grumbled, feeling defeated. Still wanting to get the last word in, however, she added, "And weren't you supposed to be watching over me, Vinnie? What ever happened to your promise? Some great protector you turned out to be!" She locked her arms across her chest, shut her eyes, and pointed her face off to the side, refusing to look at him.

There was a silence after that. It was quiet enough to hear a breeze wafting by.

"I'm sorry, Yuffie."

The little ninja slowly opened her chestnut hues, and slowly dropped her arms, all while slowly turning her head back forward to face him. Her mouth drooped when she saw the sincerity in his eyes. It didn't help her that, because of Vincent's high collar, those were the only things she could see.

"Oh, no." Yuffie then waved her hands around and started to move like she were about to set off in different directions, but stopped herself each time. "No, no, no, no, no! You got it all wrong. I didn't mean it like that!" This was the truth.

Really, Yuffie had been totally aware of how she blew everything out of proportion. It was merely her way of venting frustrations, as well as to fish for some sympathy. If anything, her whole animated tirade had been innocent, to her and everybody else; except Vincent, it seemed. He looked to have taken it a bit more personally than she'd wanted him to.

"I'll try harder next time. I promise."

Yuffie smacked her lips at that and, in a rare offering, frowned at him with a kind of girlish regret which could probably best be described as one somebody might give to a shivering kitten. She was supposed to be the one everyone felt sorry for, but the plan was backfiring badly. She heaved a sigh, spun on her heel, and then dropped down into a fetal position with her head buried into her arms. The only movement she made after staying still like that for several seconds was the stretching of one hand out to pat the top of Vincent's pointy boots twice in a _there, there_ motion.

"I forgive you," was all she said. Whether she seriously intended that for him, or to herself, was debatable.

Vincent sighed. He faced the tent to find the three others there beaming at him. Tifa clasped her hands together, smiling warmly at the scene. Jethro bobbed his head briefly and hopped his brows, sort of congratulating the gunslinger for handling the situation so maturely. However, once reaching the third face; two knowing looks were traded that shall forever remain un-described, and Cloud gave Vincent a tiny thumbs-up. With a gasp, Tifa slapped the gesture away. Yuffie then stood, feeling more stable. Luckily, she never caught on to what had just transpired.

"Vincent?" she started, and he turned his head to her. Before she could continue, a third beast suddenly rushed out from the grass behind Vincent.

"Look out!"

"Vincent, behind you!"

The animal screamed mid-jump.

"What? Vinnie —!"

There was a metallic _thunk!_ and the beast flew back diagonally. Vincent carefully lowered his claw-like gauntlet, listening for any signs of further danger. When a few seconds of nothing went by, the tenseness receded. Vincent, however, kept his hand above his holster.

"That was a quite of a backhand, Mr. Valentine," Jethro said. "Very impressive —"

"Wait," Vincent said, raising his claw to stop him.

Everyone froze and perked their senses. Sure enough, a deep growl gurgled from somewhere nearby. It began as one, but grew to three, then five, and then a few more. To pinpoint exactly where they were coming from wouldn't be easy. It was a bleak thing to realize that they emanated from every direction.

All eyes turned to Cloud. At his nod, the group gathered close, but maintained just enough distance between each body to improvise. Preparations then began for the fight which was surely to come, and they flowed in a rhythm of speed and lithe poise. Cloud reached into the tent and pulled out his enormous blade, spinning it once around his back before adopting his battle stance. Tifa detached the pair of red fingerless gloves that hung from her waist and slipped them on. Immediately, she wrapped them over with some black boxing tape from her satchel. Vincent readied his rifle, the Death Penalty, as Jethro picked up the Conformer and tossed it to Yuffie. He then grabbed a stick.

He spun it with elegant grace, menacing its end to and fro to showcase its awesome power. Owing to the smoothness of its form, it brandished like a dream, slicing through the air like a tank shell through bubbles. The grip was perfectly grooved, the end decidedly blunt, the body itself robust. Adroit and flawless; not a splinter to be found. It was a truly magnificent stick.

The others stared blandly at Jethro, who clenched the length of wood before him like a katana. Vincent then held out his pistol.

"No, I'm fine," Jethro said, quickly. Vincent didn't budge, so Jethro nodded in surrender, dropped the stick, and accepted the Outsider.

The growling intensified. However many more of those creatures there were mattered little. They all sounded angry. Suddenly, the chorus stopped, and a lone cat, much bigger than the previous three, emerged from the grass. Its dark flesh was riddled with the scars of past battles, and a chipped stub gleamed where a tooth had once been. This had to be the alpha of the pack. Tifa cracked her knuckles at it, just about daring the creature to come. Vincent and Jethro pointed their guns, and Yuffie arced her Conformer back high to ready as much power into her throw when it would be needed. The alpha, however, simply stood its ground from the edge of the camp. In that silence, its heavy breaths sounded more like slow snorts.

Cloud scanned the area, noting the tops of backs visible throughout the surrounding grass. He counted eight in all, which would be nine with the largest before them. It was at this moment that Cloud decided to make the first move. He moved the tip of the blade over to the side and took three steps forward. Then, a surprising thing happened: the alpha took a step back. It was afraid.

The alpha lowered its wide snout and made three quick, guttural calls. The others in its pack stood from their places throughout the perimeter of the camp and, together with their leader, retreated back up the knoll. At the top, the alpha made a brief sneer towards the group of humans below before finally disappearing from sight. There then was a collective sigh of relief. Weapons were sheathed, and a pistol was returned.

"Think there's anymore of these things around?" Cloud asked.

Tifa surveyed the darkness. "It seems okay enough now, but I'd feel safer if we could get that fire going again."

"All right," said Cloud. "Jethro, Tifa, and I will take the last watch. Vincent, you and Yuffie go get some rest. The two of you have been up way too long." He was ignorant to the fact that Yuffie had been asleep for almost the entire day.

Yuffie glanced at Vincent with a timid, guilt-ridden smile. He looked back at her briefly before simply walking into the tent, never saying a word. Once he was out of sight, her little smile turned lopsided. Now she had to share a tent alone with Vincent Valentine. If it weren't for the frigid chill of the night, her face would've probably been redder than that gunslinger's cloak.

Good nights were exchanged and the shifts switched. The first thing Cloud did was roll the carcass off of the campfire with his boot. Afterward, he took Jethro a short distance away to search for anything they could use to start up a new fire. Tifa stayed behind for sentry duty, but since things had quieted down, she spent her short time alone seated down on the ground, looking up at the stars whilst dreaming awake.

—

The rested adventurers marched across the barren plains towards their destination, the rebel headquarters in Midgar, under unsurprisingly overcast skies. While the metropolis, as well as the area around it, had indeed been devastated by the falling of Meteor, the landscape around Midgar had actually been a rocky wasteland devoid of any vegetation for quite some time prior. Eight Mako reactors concentrated into a single place to absorb the the planet's very energy, the Lifestream, tended to do things like that.

"We're not just planning to go in there without a plan, are we?" Yuffie asked.

Jethro turned to her. "Wouldn't that count as being a plan in of itself?"

"Oh, you know what I mean!"

"Of course we have a plan," Tifa said. She offered Yuffie a reassuring look, then turned to the leader of AVALANCHE, Cloud Strife, with a more quizzical expression. "Don't we?" she asked.

Cloud nodded with no eye contact. "We do," he said. "We just haven't thought of it yet."

"So we're just gonna charge straight in there and kick Zeb in the teeth?" Yuffie asked. "Sounds good to me!" She raised an enthusiastic fist into the air.

Cloud scoffed, amused, but logic called for a constructive chide at the Wutaian princess's expense. "Don't get ahead of yourself, Yuffie," he said. "We've got Jethro here, and I'm pretty sure he, at the very least, knows the basic layout of the place so we can approach this more tactically. It _is_ his own base, after all."

"It _was__,_ if I may be so bold as to correct you."

"In either case, it works to our advantage because you're here with us, just as long as you don't try anything funny."

"Funny? Why, that pains me, my dear," he said with a teasingly suggestive expression on his face, but Tifa rolled her eyes. Nevertheless, Jethro continued with, "I would never think to cause any harm to a delicate nymph such as yourself. By the way, Miss Lockhart, you never answered my question from before."

Everyone groaned in the anticipation of what was to come.

"Are you chained down to anyone?" Jethro pulled his lips back into a smile as slick as sandpaper.

"Are you looking for another slap there, Romeo?" Yuffie asked.

"Well, I'm looking certainly looking for something," he said, staring down Yuffie's athletic frame.

Both women scoffed in disgust and picked up their pace. They left Jethro to stop in his tracks with a playful expression of confusion on his face. He then turned to Vincent, almost as if he were waiting for some sort of assistance. Instead, he simply walked passed him, matching speed with the others.

"Oh, I feel the love," Jethro said. It was certainly a failure, but still entertaining. He chuckled to himself before he jogged forward to catch up.

—

Zeb Mahonney was seated at his desk, rubbing the bridge of his nose. His headache had grown excruciatingly. On one hand, he was dealing with personal stresses, namely his raging desire to be reunited with his family in Paradise. The other hand held the fact that he'd lost his best and most reliable man — to the side of the enemy. As if that weren't bad enough, there was a third hand in the form of a powerful puppet that he seemed to be losing control over. A fourth hand, still: sleeping contingents of anti-AVALANCHE forces across the land grew more blood-thirsty with each passing day. They were under his command, and they eagerly awaited the order to embark on an all-out offensive. The call for a man hunt for the band of misfits they so anxiously sought to wreak vengeful havoc upon had been denied again and again. It just wasn't the right time, but it was still the will of the masses.

"What news?" Zeb demanded, looking up from the papers on his desk. "Have you taken care of them yet?" He was speaking to the ghastly mist forming in the corner of the room.

It then materialized into a little wooden doll dressed in flamboyant green and blue garments. When fully solid, the jester girl, Moira, sauntered over towards the side of the desk. The bells that lined the seams of her outfit stayed abnormally quiet with every step.

"No, I have not yet taken care of them all." An older voice left the puppet's purple lips, not the same youth that Zeb was more used to when Jethro was still around.

Zeb was visibly disappointed by the reply. This was ignored by Moira, who held much malice in her woodwork for the man seated before her.

"And why not? What is taking so long?" he asked more calmly.

"It has not been easy. They've grown wise to me, thanks to your old ally Jethro." Zeb's eye twitched at that mention, but Moira continued. "They have become aware of the fact that they're only vulnerable to my attacks in their slumber, and have taken to sleeping in shifts while the others keep watch. It is quite . . . frustrating," she added with a dark tone in her voice.

"Persistent bastards. I am hoping their stubbornness will contribute to their undoing." Jeb was starting to make less and less sense. "Do you know what they plan to do? Can you at least tell me that? Perhaps, even their current whereabouts? Give me an update, at least!"

"The ones I have previously dealt with remain in Cosmo Canyon, of course. The old one is still unconscious. All three are watched over by a diligent lady and the local villagers."

"And of the latest?"

"Reeve Tuesti lies in the Gold Saucer's Ghost Hotel. He is guarded well by a robotic cat, along with people from the staff. The remaining members of AVALANCHE are on their way here. Jethro is with them. They left Junon yesterday, and are now less than an afternoon's walk away from Midgar. From what I have observed, they are all coming for you."

Zeb grumbled, obviously agitated, but he quickly covered it up.

"So they are planning to end this, end this with my blood on their hands. To get to me, they will have to go through scores of my men, and the more people they kill, the more people will unite against them. It fills me with pride to know how perfectly this all plays itself out. Maybe . . ." Zeb trailed off, his thoughts turning towards his family again. Bangs of gray hair fell over his face as he rested his chin upon interlocked fingers.

A knowing smirk of the true condition of his wife and daughter flashed across the puppet's face. "Remember that Jethro is with them," Moira then said. "He knows his way around the compounds very, very well."

"It is of no concern," he said, not looking up. "I will double the guards at all entrances and passages. The scouts around the Midgar plains should dwindle a number or two before they even make it to the city limits." He raised his head and folded his hands atop the desk. "Go, resume your duties, puppet."

The fake smile on Moira's lips twitched. "I have a name," she said. The voice of the child was back.

"Do I look like I care if that matters? Just go and resume your duties. You have lost your usefulness as an assassin, but can still carry on as a spy. Still, do not let that discourage you from seizing any opportunities to spirit away another member of AVALANCHE."

Moira bowed down low and slunk back into the wall. Zeb failed to catch the malevolent flash of a smile as it disappeared. At the push of a button, a head soon popped through the doorway of the room, and in popped a woman. Zeb flattened his hands on the desk and raised his chin. The order he finally gave put a morbidly ecstatic grin on the guard's face.

"I don't care how you do it, and I don't care where you take them from, but double the guard and patrols. I am expecting some guests."

—

Yuffie spoke endlessly to Vincent as they walked towards Midgar, but his mind was on other things. His demons' wordless message meant that Chaos could stop Moira somehow. The dilemma came from what, and why, they were telling him this. He once again thought back to the night at the Ghost Hotel when he had shot Yuffie. He specifically remembered that he'd created a mental barrier that night. Within that barrier, he imprisoned Chaos. It had thrashed around; infuriated, but subdued. At that moment, Vincent began forming an epiphany. Though the vile tormentors of his psyche were his most hated foes, they offered a special perk: the defense of his mind from alien intrusion.

Another series of thoughts shot through Vincent's mind. He winced at the theories produced, but it all was making sense. Chaos warned Vincent to check on Yuffie the night she was attacked by the clown girl. Chaos stirred within him every time Yuffie was in danger. Every time, he felt that same uneasiness around Yuffie. The agenda of Chaos became crystal clear. Being suppressed was not a pleasant feeling to the winged fiend, or for any of Vincent's demons, for that matter. If Vincent were to lax his control over them, his demons would protect his mind from Moira's attacks.

The pale, smiling face of Chaos flashed before his eyes as he completed the thought. Vincent knew that this would not be an easy decision, as the plan carried with it unspeakable risks. He knew all too well that should he lose too much control, the entities he harbored could do much more harm than good, and the gods help all should Chaos become unleashed to rampage freely at its leisure.

"Get down!" Cloud whispered.

Vincent quickly snapped back to reality. He hunkered down on the hill alongside the others, and watched a jeep full of people cruise by on the dirt highway leading out of Midgar.

Jethro crawled up beside Cloud. "They're with the protest group," he said.

"How do you know?"

"I recognize the driver."

"What are they doing?"

"They must be a patrol, or are just off to deliver a message. Maybe they're relocating to another base of operations. Who knows, honestly? All that matters is that they didn't see us."

A shot slammed into the hill. Dust from where the bullet had hit rose beside Cloud. That had been much too close for comfort, so the group scrambled to find their own covers behind nearby stone formations or on the opposite side of the knoll. Multiple people began charging towards them. Their numbers were uncertain; they were still charging from over the hill about a baseball field's length away. Yelling battle cries and carrying a variety of firearms and bladed weaponry, well over a dozen men and women sprinted forward with mad haste. For weeks, these militia had prayed for a chance that AVALANCHE would happen by within a few miles, and now AVALANCHE had come right to their doorstep.

Cloud cursed under his breath. He stood, then drew his blade, the Ultima Weapon, just in time to deflect a small volley of gunfire. "Looks like we've got no choice for this one," he said.

Jethro remained hidden behind a nearby rock and watched his party prepare themselves for battle. Vincent pulled his rifle out from his thigh holster, prompting Yuffie to unhook her shuriken-like Conformer. Tifa followed suit by slipping on her gloves and locking herself into a defensive pose to wait for her attackers to get into distance. The others then stepped up beside her in a wide line. The mob of rebels they faced were hell-bent, practically forming a tide of fury ready to crash upon the beach that was the four remaining members of AVALANCHE.

Cloud gave the final order: "Spare their lives if you can."

They all readjusted their positions, each preparing themselves to incapacitate their first attackers. Once some of them stepped into point blank range, Vincent lowered his aim at a thigh and fired.

* * *

**Author's Note: Oh my god, that took a lot longer than I expected. I started just a few minutes after noon, pulling stuff outta my ass to get this chapter up and now it's 3:15am in the morning… Ha, well I plan to spend all day tomorrow on another chapter. I apologize for the short length of this one in comparison to old tolerant's. I plan to make up for it by doing two small chapters simultaneously, this being the first. Maybe I can do a chapter every weekend, if college allows me the time.  
**


	3. Sink to the Bottom with You

**Beyond Paradise II**

_Disclaimer: I do not own Yuffie, Vincent, or anything/anybody else in this fiction, they belong to Square Enix. I also don't own previously established fictitious characters such as Moira, Zeb, or Jethro. They were created by the original fan fic's author, tolerant. This is not an "official" sequel by the original author, more like a tribute by me since the original has been discontinued, unfortunately. I am not affiliated with tolerant in any way, shape, or form (other than being a fan, of course)._

**Author's Note: Allllllrighty, it's 5:32pm PST on a Saturday that's been pretty great so far. Let's see where I can go with this, hell I feel like pulling an all-nighter. Just needz mah coffee.**

* * *

_There is a place where the sidewalk ends  
And before the street begins,  
And there the grass grows soft and white,  
And there the sun burns crimson bright,  
And there the moon-bird rests from his flight  
To cool in the peppermint wind._

Let us leave this place where the smoke blows black  
And the dark street winds and bends.  
Past the pits where the asphalt flowers grow  
We shall walk with a walk that is measured and slow,  
And watch where the chalk-white arrows go  
To the place where the sidewalk ends.

Yes we'll walk with a walk that is measured and slow,  
And we'll go where the chalk-white arrows go,  
For the children, they mark, and the children, they know  
The place where the sidewalk ends.

Where the Sidewalk Ends  
--Shel Silverstein

**- Chapter 13: Sink to the Bottom with You  
**

Cries of agony racked the arid valley after Vincent moved to quickly reload his weapon and Yuffie caught her Conformer. Having their entire front line rapidly neutralized before they even got a chance to come into melee range did not deter the remaining assailants as they jumped over their fallen brethren, all clutching their thighs or other parts of their legs that had been shot out or slashed by the caped gunslinger and little ninja, to finally attack the four heroes.

Like clockwork, Tifa sidestepped a spear thrust, grabbed her end of the pole, pulled the man towards her and proceeded to make quick work of her first foe before leg sweeping her second enemy to the ground. Yuffie's agility allowed her to dodge several club thrusts as she held out for an adequate opening to strike at her opponent, while Vincent gave his foes a hard time by agitating his three attackers with a constantly moving target.

The skirmish was chaotic, all four adventurers being engaged with superior numbers, though their talents, weapons, and expertise more than made up for the handicap. The untrained, inexperienced rebels were taken down with relatively little difficulty. A sizable group was ganging up on Cloud, four to one, all hoping for the chance to be the one to kill the leader of their sworn enemies, AVALANCHE.

The blonde swordsman's adversaries were either too young or too old, but the only reason Cloud was still locked in combat was because he waited for the opportune time to render the opposition unable to continue the fight without having to resort to taking their lives. Backing up and deflecting blow after blow, Cloud stood atop the knoll they started on and slashed across the shins of a middle-aged man wearing a bandanna, then kicked a teenaged spearman square in his chest, causing him to roll down the little hill into the awaiting reaches of Tifa.

Cloud swatted away the blade of his third enemy with a mighty swing, causing sparks to fly in all directions, and then focused his attention on his last attacker. To the AVALANCHE leader's surprise, the third man continued the fight with his fists, fearless in his engagement. It was at that precise moment that Cloud realized how zealous these people must be to blindly bombard him and his teammates with seemingly no concern for their own safety, ignoring logical survival instincts.

In-between parries, a thought began to cross Cloud's mind. _Could we really have damaged their lives so much to force them into such a mindless, berserker-like state?_

He noticed Jethro dash out from the safety of his rock and grab the unarmed man from behind, initiating a hand-to-hand struggle that seemed to tilt into the ex-rebel's favor. Cloud dispatched his final assailant by knocking him unconscious with a jab from the hilt of his Ultima Weapon while said assailant was distracted by Jethro's surprise assault on the third rebel.

Tifa, Yuffie and Vincent ambled up beside Cloud to watch Jethro's tussle with the large man. Breaking free from the headlock, Jethro managed to elbow the guy in the ribs and then tossed him over his shoulder. The large man hit the ground hard and groaned before being kicked out of consciousness when the blonde man's heel knocked him out cold. The dust around the two combatants was just beginning to settle when Jethro turned to see look at the four sets of eyes simply staring at him.

"Well, thanks for the 'help,'" he said sarcastically between breaths as he bent down, placing his hands on his knees to finish panting.

"You looked like you could handle it," Yuffie mocked him. "Besides, it was pretty funny when he got you in the jaw!"

Tifa joined in with Yuffie to laugh at the blue-eyed man's expense. Jethro merely smiled and stood erect to cross his arms. The group surveyed the aftermath, feeling regret for their actions but accepting their done deeds as an act of self-defense. The mob of once-vigorous rebels now laid rolling on the floor clutching onto crippling wounds and injuries that Tifa hoped would just be temporary.

"We should go, we made a lot of noise," suggested Tifa, a noticeable sorrow in her voice superseding her usual friendly optimism. "I'm sure we'll have more company soon if we don't keep moving."

"You're right, Midgar's just another couple miles ahead," Cloud agreed while taking a last look around to make sure nobody was well enough to get them from behind. "Let's go."

------------

Shera patted the comatose Barret on his forehead with the small wet towel as the doctor applied his stethoscope to Cid's chest.

"Shit… I'm fine, I'm fine, goddammit," Cid snapped rather weakly, though his trademark irritability was more than obvious through his voice.

The pilot kept his hand to his head as it throbbed from the sharp headache he was having.

"You're not fine, Mr. Highwind. You have two cracked ribs and suffered a grade 3 concussion. You're suffering migraines and you just recovered from internal bleeding."

"Whatever," scoffed Cid while holding his bandaged ribcage, then groaned in pain as he reached for the pack of cigarettes on the end table by his bed.

He cursed up a storm as Shera grabbed the captain's wrist. She let out a heavy sigh and shook her head.

"Cid..."

"Lemme have my smokes, woman!"

"Mr. Highwind, in your condition, it's best to stay away from tobacco and alcohol until you recover."

Cid snorted as he heard the doctor's suggestion. "Well, how long'll that take, doc?"

"Well, you've shown exceptional resilience and seem to be healing quickly despite your many, err, unhealthy habits..."

"Hmph!"

"...And considering how well you've been taken care of by Shera here, as well as–"

"Can you get to the goddamn point already?!"

"Please Cid, don't curse at the doctor. He's only trying to help."

"Er, I recommend a minimum of at least two weeks," the doctor finished quickly to avoid upsetting the captain any further.

Another series of swears and squirming from the pilot, prompting both the doctor and Shera to restrain the hot-headed man. The maid outside the open door let out a giggle as she passed by with a trash bag.

------------

"But what about the rumors?" the younger rebel asked to the older but shorter red-haired one.

"Which ones? There's tons."

"These AVALANCHE guys, I heard they just got into a scuffle with some of our guys in North Corel while doing something they claimed was 'for the good of the Planet.'"

"So, how is that surprising? They're so reckless, they never fully think things through... collateral damage means nothing to these bastards."

As the two people continued their patrol around the ruined street of a Midgar boulevard, a small agile figure scaled the rooftops above them and quietly crouched on the edge to spy on the pair of armed men.

"But that's the thing. Have you checked these guys' dossiers? They're supposed to have an Ex-SOLDIER and a master pilot with them."

"Uh-huh, and they got a 'vampire' and a 'ninja,' as well," the red-head scoffed with sarcasm as he rested his long rifle on his shoulder.

"Hey, ninjas _are_ real! Vampires, too!"

"How would _you_ know? You never left Kalm until last week when you joined up. If you keep being so superstitious, you should just quit and go back to sweeping up hair at your uncle's barber shop."

"Look, whatever the case, these guys need to be stopped. I _had_ to join up after everything I heard about these criminals. I heard the stories of all the stealing and murder they did while maintaining a 'for the good of the planet' front. I can't believe these villains got away with their little charade for so long! Pretending to be the heroes of the Planet while plundering and committing crimes when nobody was looking. I joined because I just knew I had to put a stop to them before they took it too far. I'm surprised they haven't been caught by the proper authorities, yet."

"Okay, first of all, what 'proper authorities' are you speaking of? Second of all, it sounds like you just joined up to fulfill delusions of vigilante heroism. Hell, I never even heard of these crime spree rumors they've been doing."

"They're not rumors, they're fact! ...Er, well, I'm pretty sure they are."

"Whatever, all I know is, I'm in it because I know they're responsible for the people they've killed and the lives they ruined, including mine, in their quest to save the world. Regardless of their intentions, it's their stupid fault for being so reckless that many of us are so goddamn miserable! People like me enlisted because AVALANCHE is responsible for the things that happened! My brother was in Sector 7 when the plate fell and my wife's parents were lost when Meteor hit Midgar!"

"I'm sorry to hear that..."

The figure on the rooftop eavesdropping on the pair of patrolmen glared down at the duo, listening intently to more of their conversation before she lost sight of them after they turned a corner.

_Wow... seems like at least some of these guys joined the fray for all the wrong reasons, _she thought to herself of the misinformed younger rebel.

Looks like there were many outrageous and untrue rumors being spread by who knows who, probably to increase the number of recruits for their enemies. The Wutaian ninja rose to her feet and continued on with her mission, mindful of her steps and jumps as she free ran across the dilapidated concrete rooftops of the once-grand city of Midgar.

------------

Jethro led the way for Tifa and Cloud through the back alleys that he knew for a fact were not blocked off by debris and still accessible. Every so often they could hear the voices or footsteps of passing guards on the adjacent streets parallel to them, but while maintaining their cover, they continued to make their way up to the warehouse headquarters with little trouble. So far, a few wild monsters and impassable sentries were all that stood in their way, but they still managed to avoid alerting their enemies of their presence. They kept their eyes and ears peeled.

"Hold on," Cloud stopped the group as he felt the PHS phone vibrating in his pocket.

They ducked into a broken, rubble-littered doorway as the blonde leader pulled out the phone.

"Cloud? It's Shera back at Cosmo Canyon."

"What's up, anything new happen with them?" he asked, keeping his voice down.

"I thought you should know that Cid woke up this morning and is beginning to recover, but he's in pretty bad shape... Cid, please calm down!" Cloud and Tifa smiled as they heard their old friend swearing in the background, something about taking it easy on his ribs. "Barret and Nanaki are still out but in stable condition according to the doctor, and I called Cait Sith earlier and he said Reeve was the same."

"Alright, that's good to hear. Thanks for the update, we might be getting into something later on so we'll call you back later, okay?"

"Alright, you all take care."

"_Give 'em hell, spikey!_" he heard the captain's voice call out in the background over the phone before Cid yelled something at the doctor again.

"Come, we must to hurry," Jethro urged as Cloud pocketed the PHS.

"I hope Vincent and Yuffie are doing okay," Tifa sighed while following the two down the rest of the long stone alleyway.

"I'm sure they're fine, Tifa. They can take care of themselves."

"I wish we could have found another PHS for them before coming here, though. I can't believe every place we went to was sold out."

"Those phones are becoming popular, my dear," Jethro commented before peaking around a corner. "I wouldn't be surprised if everybody had one in a couple of years."

At his nod, the three ran across the street into the next alleyway.

"It would have made it safer for communication, true," Cloud agreed in a low voice, stepping over a rusty bicycle. "But when we get to the back of the compound, as a substitute we can wait a few minutes before hopping the wall that Jethro says is there. Hopefully, Vincent and Yuffie will have taken the systems out by the time we get there, or this thing's gonna be over really quick."

Tifa sighed. "It's a chance we'll have to take. Nothing else we can do."

"Well, unless they changed the layout of everything since I left, we can tell if the power has been cut when we see the camera above the back door not moving from side to side. Hopefully, they didn't establish some sort of backup generator in my absence. And we don't need to hop the wall, there is a gate we can bypass. Besides, the wall I speak off is closed off, so it would be impossible to go over."

"What about this Moira?" inquired Cloud. "You're positive she'll be with Zeb?"

"Not entirely sure, but it is a good chance."

A small, blue-haired girl in a green and white jester outfit smiled down on the three sneaky individuals before vanishing from the balcony she was standing on once the group rounded another corner.

------------

Vincent landed near the edge of the four-story building's ruined rooftop and crossed his arms while surveying the open city square in front of him. Even with the brightness of the overcast day, the armed people dressed in ragged attire walking throughout the square in small groups didn't seem to notice the red-caped man. He was behind a low stone wall that raised up to his waist, so he could easily duck down if he sensed he could be spotted.

Yuffie hopped out through a hole in the next building and set foot on the opposite end of what was left of the roof. She looked down at the flights below through the large opening on the floor, careful not to accidentally knock over any of the stone debris or pebbles that seemed to dot every inch of the whole city from when Meteor hit. The noise would attract unneeded attention.

"Yeesh..." she mumbled at the sight then slowly walked up behind Vincent. "Hey, you beat me here! How long were you waiting?"

"Not long."

"How'd you do?" she asked plainly while stepping up beside the gunslinger, bending down slightly so she could place her elbows on top of the low concrete wall in front of her.

She rested her chin on her palms as she watched the groups below move along.

"I had no trouble," Vincent answered flatly in his deep voice in regards to his disablement of the first set of alarm systems.

"Well, lucky you. I got caught when I severed my set. I had to knock her out, tie her up and leave her in a closet."

Vincent continued to gaze upon the groups of rebels, then at the makeshift bunker at the end of the street.

"Is that where we're supposed to cut the power?" Yuffie asked while squinting into the distance. Vincent nodded and she let out a sigh. "This won't be easy. We still have to keep this quiet, huh?"

Vincent nodded again and the two went on their way via the rooftops.

------------

The trio waited for the four guards to pass and they stopped at the foot of the stone wall. It looked quite intact and new, in contrast to the obliterated status of everything surrounding it. It must have been recently erected to help keep intruders and monsters out. Cloud peaked underneath the iron gate and saw the other side was devoid of enemies. Just a doorway and window with a camera above it that was not moving.

"Well, here goes nothing," Jethro said while taking out a small satchel from his coat pocket.

He unraveled it, pulled out some small tools and quickly began picking the lock.

"You can throw Yuffie's Conformer, fight in hand-to-hand, and now you can pick locks?" commented Tifa, suspicion rife in her tone.

"There's time for that later, Miss Lockhart," Jethro replied without missing a beat, quickly changing the subject. "There are more pressing matters at hand."

Soon after, a _click_ sounded and the iron gate slowly opened. The three held their breath as they listened intently for some sort of alarm, and with none to speak of, they ducked into the little porch and re-closed the gate before the patrols happened by. The gate was solid so it would keep the trio out of sight as Jethro made his way to a small hole at the foot of the wall he knew.

"There it is, let's go." The three individuals entered the opening and proceeded to make their way into the hallway through another hole in the wall they had to crawl through. "Now I'm glad they were too lazy to board up these holes after all the times Zeb asked for them to."

------------

"Say good night, creep," Yuffie spouted before kicking the man in the face, knocking his lights out. "That's the fourth one, Vincent. How many more of these patrols are gonna pass by the entrance?"

Vincent peeked his head out of the doorway and returned to his position, leaning back against the wall with his arms crossed under his cloak. "We'll have to stay here as long as possible, up until they wise up as to why nobody is reporting in from this bunker."

"So basically, we gotta buy Tifa and Cloud as much sneak time as possible, huh? I wanted to go with them and give Zeb a piece of my mind!"

"We've got a job to due, Yuffie. We have little time to spare so everything must be done simultaneously. To do so successfully, we had to split up."

"Yeah-yeah, I just... Hey wait..." Yuffie squinted as she looked out the doorway and saw a large group of people walking away across the street. They all seemed to be escorting somebody. "Oh my god, it's Zeb!" Yuffie yelled out and stepped out of the doorway without thinking due to her shock and anger. She saw the rebel leader being assisted onto the back of a truck.

"Yuffie, wait!"

"Oh shit!" a surprised voice screeched out to their right.

Yuffie gasped as she saw two patrolmen underneath a doorway raise their guns at her. Vincent dashed out of the bunker, grabbed the little ninja around her waist and dove with her through the entrance of a nearby alleyway.

"We've got to warn Cloud and Tifa, it's a trap!" Yuffie exclaimed to Vincent over the sound of the gunfire racking the walls near them.

The two set off towards the middle of the ruined city as more and more rebels became alerted to the intruders, though in a much slower process with the alarm systems sabotaged.

------------

Sneaking through the headquarters, the three made their way into Zeb's office. Quickly subduing the four guards outside the door, Tifa and Cloud then stood at opposite sides, ready to storm into the room. Jethro hugged the wall behind Tifa, looking around for any other patrols. Cloud's Mako-infused sapphires locked with Tifa's wine-colored hues before the door was kicked open and the three ran into the dark, empty room.

"He's not here?" Tifa inquired while maintaining her fighting stance. "Jethro...?"

The blue-eyed ex-rebel simply shrugged, just as confused as she was before they slowly approached Zeb's desk. The papers with details of each AVALANCHE member were still littered across the surface. After some shuffling through the files, Cloud noticed red marks crossing out the pictures of Reeve, Nanaki, and Barret. He squinted as he thought, wondering...as the thought registered that Moira could act as a spy and inform the rebel leader of their whereabouts at all times, his warning to tell his two friends to get out of the room came too late as the lights suddenly switched on. They stared down the barrels of a dozen rifles aimed at them from the back of the large room.

Cloud rose his huge sword as he glared at the many eyes staring daggers back at him, recalcitrant to the thought of laying down his blade without a fight. Jethro turned around as if to run out of the room, but stopped in his tracks as several more people rushed in from the doorway and aimed their weapons at the three interlopers. His bright, blue eyes shot to every nook and cranny of the room looking for something that they could use to their advantage, or perhaps, even to escape.

Tifa glanced behind her at the men at the door and then back to the dozen or so angry faces in front of her before letting out a defeated sigh. She walked up beside Cloud and gently put her hand over his wrist, causing him to suddenly shoot a look at her. She gazed deep into his defiant eyes with as much persuasive sanguinity as she could muster to nonverbally let him see that everything was going to be alright.

After what felt like an eternity, Cloud reluctantly dropped his stance and then carefully placed his Ultima Weapon on the floor in front of him, keeping his head down to wallow in the shame he felt he deserved for allowing them to be captured. Tifa softly placed her hand on his shoulder in an effort to communicate that he did not let her down, that it was not his fault because he could not have known.

At the sight of this, Jethro dropped his arms to hang loosely at his sides and merely scoffed at the situation. The trio had surrendered.

The three were disarmed and escorted out of the room, out of the building, and down the road outside towards awaiting trucks.

_I can't believe this..._ Cloud lashed at himself in his mind as he kept his head down. _I should have known, I should have known..._

"Where are you taking us?" Jethro asked in his characteristic calmly manner, despite the fact that they had now been captured.

A shove from the rifle butt of a person behind him wordlessly ordered him to shut up and keep walking towards the first truck ahead of the convoy of vehicles parked on the street. All the engines were running, and the many armed guards looked on the trio, awaiting for their prisoners to embark onto the head supply truck so they could be on their way. In stark contrast to the poorly-equipped anti-AVALANCHE supporters found throughout the land in various villages and townships, these base guards were armed with an array of ballistics weaponry, presumably because they were part of some sort of inner-circle elite.

Yuffie and Vincent stood from their place above an old freeway overpass across from the warehouse and watched helplessly as their friends were loaded onto the back of the first truck.

"No..." Yuffie squeaked while breathing heavily, her shirt stained red with blood from the hastened battles she and the caped marksman fought to get to their companions as soon as possible. Vincent glared furiously at such a sight, damning himself for not suspecting the trap sooner and coming to their aid. "Vincent... what do we do now?"

The ex-Turk remained silent as he gradually balled his golden claw into a fist, simultaneously tightening the grip on the Death Penalty he held in his other hand. Yuffie, known for her playfully cheerful and vivaciously silly demeanor, now laid her head onto Vincent's left bicep, slowly clinging onto his metallic arm while tears ran down her face, completely at a loss to the hopeless situation. So many of her friends being taken away from her in such a short amount of time was too much for the teenaged ninja to handle.

She sobbed softly onto Vincent's leather sleeve as the gunslinger viewed the truck that carried his teammates speed away at the head of the convoy. Despite her desire to become a more mature woman that could remain strong in the face of dark times such as these, she could not help but admit to herself that she was still just a scared little girl deep down inside. The fact that the only people she ever really cared about were now all gone from her just escalated her grieving from light, sniffling sobs to pitifully drawn-out, childlike whines.

No rambunctious gentle giant to inspire courage in those around him; no red-furred, quiet beast to share the wisdom of a higher enlightenment; no overconfident, chain-smoking air captain to curse a blue streak whenever things didn't go the way he planned; no animatronic feline to throw out playful chides for the ease of the tension in the air; no raven-haired martial artist to give others faith for a better tomorrow with her perpetually optimistic smile; no fearless, level-headed blonde leader with a rousing strategy for every occasion; and no loving flower girl with the tranquil, harmonious glow that made everybody genuinely believe that life was truly worth fighting for.

Little by little, the final two adventurers reluctantly came to grips with the catastrophically heartrending truth that they were now alone. The winds blew bitterly onto the faces of the last two members of AVALANCHE, who could do nothing but watch what was left of their hopes drive further and further away, shrinking into the distance.

* * *

**Author's Note: 5:38am... No way in hell did I like this chapter. Writer's block came at me at every corner, it was difficult to type out so many fight scenes and think about what they could do in this chapter as they snuck around a ruined Midgar. I ended up focusing more on description than any dialogue that would help to further character development. But, I brought this on myself. I chose to continue tolerant's story where she left off, and there was no other direction I could take this other than straight into the rebel base. I would have preferred it if they (as a whole playful crew) were still investigating things across the various towns and villages, but oh well. Wow, having just said that, I feel like such a butthole for taking tolerant's old story (which was playful, bright and happy) and steering it into this dark, depressing turning point. I hope to brighten this story up into it's old self sooner or later.**

**Well...I just wanted to get this chapter out to you guys, I guess. I don't want to give anything away, but let's just say with pretty much everyone else out of the picture (similar to what tolerant explained at the end of chapter 10, cutting down on active characters so she could focus more on the main protagonists and not have to worry about if every single person was in character or not), I plan to focus the entire next chapter on Yuffie and Vincent (this IS a "Yuffentine" after all, ha).  
**


	4. In Pursuit of Lost Kin

**Beyond Paradise II**

_Disclaimer: I do not own Yuffie, Vincent, or anything/anybody else in this fiction, they belong to Square Enix. I also don't own previously established fictitious characters such as Moira, Zeb, or Jethro. They were created by the original fan fic's author, tolerant. This is not an "official" sequel by the original author, more like a tribute by me since the original has been discontinued, unfortunately. I am not affiliated with tolerant in any way, shape, or form (other than being a fan, of course)._

**Author's note: Oh god. I don't normally do stuff like what I just did, but I actually stumbled upon this cool little Yuffentine manga which gave me LOADS of inspiration, I'm talking the fabled... "hit-like-a-brick" kind of inspiration that amateur writers like me only dream of. I already got both chapters planned out in mind, this first one being more textually descriptive, while the next one being more focused on developmental dialogue and uh... "Yuffentine yumminess."  
**

* * *

_All that is, was and will be  
Universe, much too big to see  
Time and space, never ending  
Disturbing thoughts, questions pending  
Limitations of human understanding  
Too quick to criticize  
Obligation to survive  
We hunger to be alive_

Through the Never  
--James Hetfield

**- Chapter 14: In Pursuit of Lost Kin  
**

"Please stop fidgeting, Mr. Highwind."

"Then stop stickin' so many needles in me, dammit!"

"Mr. Highwind, you were only given two shots in as many days; something I would hardly constitute as 'sticking you full of needles.'"

"That's bullshit! Where's Shera and that doctor?! God, if I ain't bein' tormented verbally, I gotta be tormented physically, and if it's not that, it's something else! Can I get a goddamn break?! You're just here to torture me, ain't ya?! You related to a brat named Yuffie?!"

"Mr. Highwind please, no need to raise your voice. I'm more than qualified to take care of you while you recuperate. I am a nurse, after all. You need to stay in bed as much as possible or--"

"You listen here, missy! If I'm well enough to drag my own ass all the way to the bathroom to do my business without anybody's help, you can bet yours that I'm well enough to get out there and give those bastards we're at war with a piece of my fuckin' mind!"

"Which is precisely the reason you won't heal as quickly and thoroughly because you won't stay in bed. The best and fastest way to help your friends is to calm down, lay down, and recover as well as you can so you can do what you feel you have to do in the quickest, most efficient and safest way possible."

Cid groaned after trying to sit up, his ribs still wrenching. "I tell ya, I'm fine!"

It didn't take much longer for the nurse to finally realize that everything she has said and would ever say to such a boisterous patient would just go in one ear and out his other. She eventually took to keeping her mouth shut as much as possible while waiting for her short shift--a regular checkup that was to be on a daily basis, much to her dismay--to be over and Shera to wake up to relieve her of her duties.

_Just one more hour, just one more hour..._

--

Tifa, Cloud, and Jethro sat silently on one side of the back of the truck, bobbing somewhat from side to side due to the motion of the vehicle. They kept their gazes remotely preoccupied by staring down their noses or watching the ruins of Midgar passing by. They had nothing to say, especially with the barrels of several guns pointed at them.

His weapon confiscated, Cloud had his arms crossed, beating himself up in his mind for letting the team down. _I can't believe I let this happen... I should have seen this coming. What's wrong with me? I know I'm smarter than this. Waltzing straight down into the enemy base without a proper plan beforehand and not fully thinking things through and getting us captured... why do I let my emotions get hold of me so easily?_

_There must be something wrong with me, I've never been the same since Hojo's experiments. I can't believe I let personal feelings cloud my judgment, that's the first mistake! I wish Sephiroth had been right, that I'm just a puppet with no emotions who only pretends to be angry or sad...or just cold inside, apathetic and aloof, kind of like how Vincent is... But no way in hell. Figures. This sucks. _

Cloud shot a glance at Tifa, sitting farthest away from him. Even with an expressionless Jethro staring into nothingness obstructing Cloud's view, he could make out the look on Tifa's face. Worry, sorrow, uncertainty, and other things he could sense, all just pulling the blonde swordsman deeper into the figurative mud he threw himself in.

Looking on with a malicious smirk painted on his face, Zeb sat opposite from the trio. He was eerily quiet as well, much to the discomfort of his old ally, Jethro. Not knowing what to expect from their captors, the three prisoners could do nothing constructive but wonder about what was to come as soon as they arrived to wherever they were going.

Though he would never admit it in order to preserve the mystery and fear he worked so hard to instill in his foes – as well as to keep himself entertained by not 'killing the buzz' of such an amusing situation – the young, silver-haired leader of the anti-AVALANCHE movement had no idea of what was to come, either.

------------

"Where should we go, Vinnie?" Yuffie asked, breathless from running through the streets of what was once the grand city of Midgar for almost ten minutes straight.

She kept her hand over her side, suppressing a cramp that long since developed from such incessant sprinting. Normally she would be complaining to take a rest, but the lives of her friends depended on Yuffie and Vincent keeping track of the convoy. Yuffie saw Vincent stop by the entrance of the alleyway for a split second as if to debate on a course of action on whether or not to take the potential shortcut. He took two quick glances, first at the long alleyway beside him and then down the street where they had expected the convoy had recently traveled.

"This way," he replied while dashing into the alley.

Yuffie practically skidded due to changing her direction so quickly and unexpectedly, trying to keep up with the marksman. With her free hand, she was holding her Conformer in case of another encounter with anybody or anything hostile. The only reason they had lost sight of the column of trucks and jeeps was because they got forced into a quick skirmish with a trio of enemy patrolmen, but in the minutes they spent trying to catch up with the convoy, they had remained unhindered so far.

"Are you sure we're going the right way?" Yuffie called out to the sharpshooter in front of her, panting heavily.

Vincent stopped a little more than halfway down the corridor-like alleyway and looked up to his right side at something she couldn't see, then glanced back to her and motioned his hand for her to pick up the pace.

_Easy for you, Mr. Superhuman Experiment Guy!_ Yuffie thought before she turned the little corner to see Vincent sprinting up a dangerously steep-looking set of concrete stairs with wrecked chained-linked fences on either side angling up with the incline.

Yuffie threw her arms up and let out a loud, frustrated groan before ascending the steps as fast as her exhausted body could take her. They only went on for two or three stories, but to Yuffie, they seemed to drag on forever. She almost lost her footing a couple of times when rubble and other stones in her path she stepped on nearly caused her to slip. She made it to the top and stopped next to Vincent, her hand that was on her belly now over her left knee while she bent down to catch her breath.

"Do you... do you see 'em?" Yuffie asked while still panting before she managed to look up at Vincent just he leaned over the low wall to observe the street below.

"There, coming up."

"We caught up?!" the princess asked with surprise, leaning over the wall as well to catch sight of the first truck just turning a corner onto the avenue. "Wow, they must have cleared all these streets beforehand..." she noticed after realizing that many of the roads they had passed had been virtually cleared of obstructions and debris one would expect from a city that had been mostly demolished by a gigantic meteor. "Just how big and organized are these guys, anyway?"

Vincent was looking at Yuffie out of the corner of his eye as she spoke, noting her surprisingly inquisitive observation.

_She will make a good leader, indeed. _he thought to himself, recalling the same thought he had of her a week before (_"When the time comes... she will make a good leader")_.

The slow traveling line of vehicles were coming up as the duo began surveying the area, trying to get an inspiration or idea of something they could do.

"Screw this, let's just get down there and kick their asses!" Yuffie yelled out while pounding her fist onto the top surface of the low concrete wall.

"We can't."

"What?! And why not?!"

"Look at how many armed men there are in each jeep, and that's not counting the potential numbers hidden underneath those tops on the back of each truck. We would be dead before we could even get close enough if we just rush in without thinking things through."

"But if we wait any longer, we'll lose them again! We have to do SOMETHING!!" Yuffie yelled so loud it wouldn't have surprised Vincent if their quarries heard her over the drones of the many engines.

Looking around frantically, Yuffie gasped as she saw the decayed remnants of a two story building at the end of the long street where the convoy was heading. With forethought nonexistent, she momentarily aimed and then threw her Conformer before Vincent could get a halting word in edge-wise. The gigantic shuriken cut through the air and ricocheted off the edge of the huge, gaping hole on the side of the dilapidated building. At first, only small sections of the stone structure slid off, but soon the whole lower right-hand corner gave way and crumbled to the side. The debris spilled onto the street, effectively blocking the entire avenue, with dust shooting out in all directions.

The lead vehicle came to a stop, screeching slightly from such a relatively low cruising speed. Yuffie caught her weapon and looked on with Vincent as the driver of the truck that supposedly held their friends disembarked, along with the armed passenger, and slowly approached the obstruction to inspect it. Crouched down behind the low wall, Yuffie traded a feared look with Vincent, who was glaring back at her for the irrational deed she had done. The caped gunman unslung his Death Penalty from his shoulder, preparing for the inevitable mobilization of the enemy force below once the warning of suspected sabotage was realized. As if right on cue, an incoherent command was given from below and the two AVALANCHE members peaked down to observe the fanning out patterns of the numerous rifle-equipped men below.

"There's so many..." Yuffie noted reluctantly. Vincent estimated twenty-five enemies in total, but he also noticed that nobody came out from the back of the lead truck where Cloud, Tifa, and Jethro supposedly were. "What do we do?"

Vincent continued to kneel silently, as if to think. He noticed Yuffie was huffing slightly as she stared at him, waiting for an answer. Her labored breathing combined exhaustion, fright, rage, and desperation, the trademarks of a teenager. He decided that he would have to attempt to settle her down, so he started to explain their predicament slowly and in simplified detail so as to reduce the chances of misinterpretations.

"Yuffie, please understand. The bottom line is that we simply cannot rescue them by ourselves, not without a severe risk to our own well-being. There's far too many odds in the enemy's favor. The best we can do is follow them without giving away our presence, find out where they will go, and then formulate an intelligent strategy from there. The important thing to do is to find out where they're heading, because if we lose them, there is a great chance that we will never find out where Cloud and Tifa have been taken, and we may very well lose them forever."

Yuffie looked at Vincent intently, slightly shocked at such a speech from the normally quiet gunslinger, but nonetheless allowing the words to sink in. The little ninja believed that if Vincent Valentine spoke more than one sentence at one time, it had to have been something of note to seriously take into account.

"You're right, I'm... I'm sorry, Vincent."

------------

"Cid, I can't raise Cloud on the PHS," Shera announced to the airship captain while crossing her arms.

"Well maybe it's the reception in this building, try going outside and call 'em again."

"I've tried that twice already, I didn't get a signal. No ringing, no dial tone, nothing. It's as if the phone has been disconnected or possibly destroyed. Isn't that what it means?"

"What're you doing calling 'em in the first place? Didn't you say Cloud was supposed to be the one to call you back? Something about them getting in some trouble?"

"Yes, but I did get a call from them about twenty minutes ago. When I answered, there was just silence. Then they hung up."

"That's it, I'm gone," Cid groaned as he painfully stood up. "And you ain't gonna stop me, ya hear?"

"Cid!" Shera ran after the pilot to try to talk him down once again.

------------

After several tense minutes of hiding behind the low wall, their backs to the concrete, the gunslinger noticed the sound of engines starting up.

"Yuffie," Vincent caught the little ninja's attention and the two peaked over the low wall to see the column of vehicles backing up and returning back towards the direction that they came from.

"Okay, let's go!" Yuffie exclaimed in a whisper before standing up with Vincent to follow him down the walkway parallel to the street.

They ducked down again when shots ricocheted from all around them. Vincent poked his head over the low wall to see several of the rebels hiding behind various cover, opening fire on them from the streets below.

"Clever little..." Yuffie growled before standing up. "I'll get you all, you stupid, sneaky pieces of sh–"

She was cut short when Vincent pulled her down. He then grabbed a hold of her wrist with his golden gauntlet as to keep his gun arm free and led her further down the walkway, keeping low behind their own cover. By then, the rest of the guards disembarked from the convoy trucks and jeeps to engage the two AVALANCHE members head on with full force. A small group made their way up a flight of steps in front of Yuffie and Vincent in an attempt to flank them, but the caped marksman dispatched them easily with quick, well-aimed potshots from his long rifle, the Death Penalty. They continued on down to encounter their enemies on their own level.

From below on street level, Cloud looked outside the back of the truck, same as Tifa and Jethro. Tifa placed a worried fist over her chest, knowing what was happening outside.

"Yuffie and Vincent..." she sighed in worry.

Cloud saw this as his chance to redeem himself. He figured he could exploit the confusion of the situation to subdue the sentries guarding them. He imagined himself simultaneously punching two of them in their crotches then kicking a third directly in his chin while taking one of their rifles to neutralize the last two. His mental envisionment of the scenario culminated with a triumphant concussive knockout blow to the rebel leader's pleading face using the butt of the rifle as Zeb begged for mercy. With that, he quickly shot up.

He fell back down to his seat as quickly as he had stood once the rifle butt connected with his chin. Wiping his jaw as if it had drool or blood, he looked up to see that all the guards were still aiming their weapons at them. Despite the hectic firefight that sounded off outside, the guards never strayed their watchful gaze over the trio to begin with. Cloud glared at them, perplexed at such professionalism despite the fact that they were supposed to be a mishmash of untrained rebels.

Then it hit him. With the way these particular 'rebels' acted--the firearms proficiency, the respect for authority, and the staunch seriousness in their duties--they had to have had military training. It all started to make a lot of sense. His initial presumption of these "inner-circle elite" just being a part of the random jumble of country boys and girls from sleepy little villages and towns had been false, apparently. Recognizing the patterns and terminologies they utilized from when he was once one of them, it answered the mystery of what became of what remained of those grunts and jar heads that weren't in Midgar when Meteor hit once the corporation capsized. He understood that these guys had to be none other than...

"ShinRa." The company name fell off his lips in earnest. The others turned to him in question. _But what are ex-ShinRas doing working for Zeb? There must be something deeper to all of this... and I just hope we're about to find out what all this is, cause I'm seriously starting to get sick of all this covert shit._

--

"They're over this way!" One of the rebels called out to his comrades while running down another alleyway. "Hurry, we can get 'em cornered!"

A mob of gun-toting associates followed the man into the alley, running all the way down towards the remains of a chain-linked fence. Before reaching the fence, they heard a female scream followed by much rumbling and crashing. Dust was rising up beyond the fence, just starting to settle once they reached it. They stared down below at a waterless gully which ran down a short way into a tunnel, the entrance of which looked as if it had recently collapsed. The scene they looked upon sent a wave of cachinnation through the large group.

"Aww..." a man remarked, sardonically pouting before bursting into a high-pitched laughter.

Beneath an enormous pile of collapsed rocks and rubble, a lifeless arm stuck out from the side, still clutching onto the gigantic shuriken weapon that had taken the lives of several of their compatriots. A few yards beside the limb was the ex-Turk, his long red cape covering most of his body. They found the irony in this quite humorous, as it reminded them of how you were obliged to drape some sort of shroud over a corpse as a sign of respect.

"Wait hey, check it out..." one of the men silenced his companions and motioned his head towards gunslinger.

He was slowly and clumsily rising up to his knees to stand up, his back towards the men. They all raised their weapons.

An impertinent overkill, they continuously bombarded the area with volleys of heavy gunfire, watching the bullets rip into the back of the injured man before he even got to his knees, causing him to spasm from such a barrage before collapsing face-down into the cold, hard ground. With blood from the corpse and shot up limb sticking out from under the cave-in amassing into a puddle around the dry gully, the mob turned around and left.

------------

Back in the rear of the prisoner transport, Tifa, Cloud, and Jethro all glared defiantly at their captors. Suddenly, a shoulder radio on one of the guards crackled.

_"Targets have been neutralized," _came a cold voice in a professional tone, a distinct polar opposite to the filthy boisterousness just moments before while performing the execution.

"Affirmative, regroup on the convoy."

Broken words and a waterfall of tears ran down Tifa's face as she buried her head in her hands. Cloud couldn't believe what he just heard, his eyes wide in disbelief as he stared into oblivion. Her sobs were the only audible noises in the entire vehicle, save for the heavy breathing of one of the guards, probably due to a cold. Cloud finally managed to turn his head to his childhood friend. He had never seen Tifa cry before, and it really bothered him. He felt like holding her, but once again, Jethro was in the way.

He shot a look at the ex-rebel, who took a while to understand his intent. Once he understood, he hesitantly looked over to his ex-boss and ex-friend. Zeb stared back for what felt like an eternity before rolling his eyes, glancing at the AVALANCHE leader and motioning his head towards the weeping nymph, feeling some regret for her. Cloud and Jethro traded seats and the blonde swordsman took the wailing lady in his arms, both mourning the passing of Yuffie Kisaragi and Vincent Valentine.

* * *

**Author's note: Hope you don't hate me for that. Ha! I don't care anyway. I knocked this chapter out, and I promise to have the next one up by Sunday-ish before my regular weekday hiatus. I'm really looking forward to the next chapter, too wink wink, nudge nudge.  
**


	5. Two Heads are Better than None

**Beyond Paradise II**

_Disclaimer: I do not own Yuffie, Vincent, or anything/anybody else in this fiction, they belong to Square Enix. I also don't own previously established fictitious characters such as Moira, Zeb, or Jethro. They were created by the original fan fic's author, tolerant. This is not an "official" sequel by the original author, more like a tribute by me since the original has been discontinued, unfortunately. I am not affiliated with tolerant in any way, shape, or form (other than being a fan, of course)._

**Author's note: God, my weekend is sucking so bad right now because there's something wrong with my computer that causes everything I load on the internet to go dial up speed (even though I have DSL). Oh and by request, the link for the manga I read to inspire me is at the end of this chapter (so you can compare this chapter to the manga first. Pffft). **

* * *

_Oh, poor twisted me, oh, poor twisted me  
I feast on sympathy  
I chew on suffer, I chew on agony  
Swallow whole the pain  
Oh, it's too good to be that all this misery  
Is just for oh, poor twisted me_

_Poor Twisted Me  
--James Hetfield_

**- Chapter 15: Two Heads are Better than None**

Cloud held the lachrymose young woman with remorse, one hand around her upper back and the other over her head as she grieved the demise of the oldest and second youngest members of AVALANCHE. Forlorn, Cloud suffered much guilt for what had happened, feeling responsible for their executions due to imprudent direction on his part. He still held a feeling deep inside, holding out faith that his conceptions of the two black sheep's superior survivalist skills were correct. Keen for a sign of his hope, he watched the decayed vestiges of Midgar pass by through the back of the truck, which was now at the rear of the vehicular column because of the double back the convoy was forced to take for a detour.

Suddenly, Cloud's anguish was wiped clean with a warm sigh and slight smile, a tremendous burden abruptly solaced much to his relief, when he caught a quick glimpse of a distant, watchful specter returned from the dead; Cloak-less at the time but the same person nonetheless.

_I knew they were harder to kill than that..._

Cloud gently rubbed the raven black hair of Tifa as the convoy rounded the last corner required to finally make it out of the city limits.

------------

Yuffie turned pale as she approached her Conformer, the huge shuriken that was resting in a sickeningly large pool of blood. Arms shaking, she hesitated before slowly bending down. She reached out for her weapon, still clutched tightly in the fingers of the deceased decoy, then froze in place as if to give it a second thought. With lightning speed stemming from a feeling of nauseated dread towards such a grisly scene, she snatched her weapon and immediately shot back up.

She took an athletic hop backwards out of the large dark-tinted puddle and staggered back, hyperventilating and shivering. Now that her ordeal was over, she took a few moments to relax herself, taking a deep breath. She squatted, then plopped herself down and finally sat on the ground.

"Yuffie."

The little ninja sprang up with a piercing shriek and jumped back, spinning around mid-leap to look up at a cape-less Vincent. She kept her hand over her chest, panting profoundly.

"Vincent! Oh my gawd! Don't you _ever_ scare me like that again! You almost gave me a freakin' heart attack, you know!"

Vincent's crimson reds simply stared deep into Yuffie's chocolate hues, the vacant look on the sharpshooter's face a stark contrast to the hysterical laughter from his literal demons within.

"I'm sorry. You were sitting on my shoe."

"Well, excuuuse me! That hardly warrants giving your bestest friend in the whole wide world a heart attack, does it?!"

At this, Vincent tilted his head to the side, nonverbally asking the inevitable question. He didn't have a smile, but there was something in his expression that had the slightest hint of an imperceptible lightheartedness superseding his typical blank stoicism, as if it was his subtle way of chuckling at such a remark. Somehow, Yuffie caught this, and a smile accompanied her still angry eyes. The figure of speech was just another one of her trademark jokes, but aside from that, she _was_ noticing a small change within the gunslinger in the weeks that they had spent side by side.

"What? It's just you and me now, Vinnie. Admit it, after all we've been through together, there's no way you could ever stand to leave me!"

She turned to her side, stuck her chin in the air and closed her eyes while crossing her arms over her chest, a playful tease at the ex-Turk's expense. She half-expected some sort of reply, but then opened her eyes after hearing his footsteps. With a split second of confusion, she looked around before finding him behind her, having already made his way to the pool of burgundy liquid, and having already unhooked his cape from the rebel's shot-up corpse, the gunslinger unphased from such a gruesome scene. He stepped back towards Yuffie, merely shaking his cape once before swiftly re-equipping it. Curiously, the almost organic-looking red piece of ripped clothing was abnormally devoid of any bullet holes.

"Vincent... your cape is so cool," she remarked while fingering the cloak. It slid from her grasp as he continued down the gully towards the opposite tunnel that was directly underneath the chain link fence above. Just as the furls of his cape settled down behind him, she caught a glimpse of a dark stain on Vincent's lower right side. "Hey, you've been shot!"

The gunslinger cocked his head back towards her slightly while still walking towards the tunnel. "It's just a flesh wound," he answered back as he knelt down beside the tied up prisoner, one of the three rebels they managed to subdue and subsequently capture.

This one, restrained to the wall with thick metal wires that stuck out of the concrete, was the only one left alive out of the trio of stragglers, the other two being the decoys that had been shot up by their own compatriots.

"Hold on, bozo, lemme have a look at it!" Yuffie barked before she scurried up beside him and sat on her knees to inspect the wound.

Vincent used his metallic gauntlet to unbend the wires with a loud creak. The prisoner was just beginning to come to, a gash on his right temple from when Yuffie snuck up behind him with a lead pipe (_"Hey! Butt-for-brains!")_.

"Ow... someone get the number of that bus...?" the lethargic captive slurred, his head still spinning.

Yuffie was right on the man, hell-bent on interrogating him for all he was worth. "Where's the convoy heading?! What's gonna happen to our friends?!" She gripped the confused young man by the shoulders and violently shook him in time with her demands. "What's wrong, cat got your tongue or something?! Why do you hate us so much, we never did anything to you! Who's in ch--"

"Yuffie," the gunslinger interjected while placing his human hand on her waist, effectively silencing his young companion. "At least allow him to regain his composure."

------------

"He's fine, Shera. The staff has been surprisingly helpful and he's still in stable condition," Cait Sith spoke into his PHS while pacing back and forth around the bed, the fat Moogle doll mindlessly trailing the feline. "But it would be best to get him to Cosmo Canyon as soon as possible. I'm getting a bad feeling, sure as certain that more of these rebel types have been hanging around, waiting for a chance to try something funny."

"Well, as soon as Cid is able to, he can swing by in the airship to pick you two up."

_"I can pick him up now, woman!" _

Shera ignored Cid and continued. "He's still disabled at the moment..."

_"No I ain't!"_

"...So until then, I'm afraid you will have to remain there."

"Well how long will that take?" inquired the robotic cat, his comically exaggerated accent even more apparent with such desperation in his voice as he placed his free hand on his hip.

"According to the doctor, in another two weeks he will be just well enough to be up and about. I hope that isn't too much of an inconvenience."

"Well, that shouldn't be too much of a problem for me to handle," the crowned feline replied confidently, though in reality he was as nervous and frightened as an artificial intelligence would permit.

"Glad to hear it. Take care, okay?"

"Thanks, you too." Cait Sith folded the phone and made his way to the bed, his arms swinging in the extravagant manner he was known for as he walked. The Moogle picked up the cat by the waist and lifted him up on top of it's head so he could better see the comatose Reeve Tuesti. "Ah, Reeve. I can't even begin to imagine what you must be going through, but I'm sure it must be horrible!"

He placed his elbows together over the Moogle doll's head and rested his chin in his palms, watching over his sleeping master as if trying to will him back into consciousness. After a few minutes of silence, there was a casual knock on the door of the hotel room.

"Yes?" Cait Sith asked. "Who is it?"

There was no answer, but the knock sounded again in the same calm cadence. The Moogle then waddled the two over towards the door.

"Hello? Who's there?"

The subsequent knock was as cool as ever, as if in no rush. Cait looked up and sighed at the lack of a peep hole. He dropped his gaze down to his ride and gave it a pat.

"Looks like we're opening it. Not the best idea... but for some reason, I haven't got too bad of a feeling about this."

The cat's white hand rested on top of the doorknob, almost reluctant as to find out the identity of the visitor.

"I mean, if it were anybody with bad intentions, they would have just broken in already, wouldn't they have?" the feline tried to reason to his brainless colleague, which had just been staring blankly at the door frame the entire time. With a small, distressed moan, the robotic cat turned the knob and slowly opened the door wide. Cait Sith's fuzzy, marshmallow-colored jaw dropped in disbelief, utterly shocked at the four people standing before him. "What are _you_ doing here?!"

------------

"Junon?!" Yuffie echoed their prisoner's answer as to the destination of the convoy. "What are they doing heading off to Junon?!"

"I answered your questions with everything that I know, everything that they told me!" he pleaded while shielding his face with his arms. "I told you everything I know, so just please, don't hit me again!"

Yuffie had been smacking the young rebel around like a rag doll ever since the start of the interrogation, screeching her probing questions at every opportunity. Vincent stood behind her with his Death Penalty in his hands, standing guard for the tough little ninja. Significantly intimidating with his presence alone, this along with such an outspoken, hotheaded Wutaian princess was more than enough to break the young man's will.

In truth, Vincent was only half-concentrated on the situation. He had neglected to tell his teenaged companion that aside from the wound he had on his side, he had been stabbed twice on his left shoulder blade by a bayonet from when he had been surrounded during the brief time the two AVALANCHE members were separated in the firefight. After sustaining such injuries and dispatching the five attackers responsible for his blade wounds, he felt himself losing control of his demons. He could sense that three of them were pushing and shoving one in Vincent's consciousness, trying to aid their demonic brother in gaining dominance over their host's psyche. Before Vincent could probe into the recesses of his mind to find out which one was attempting to take over so he could properly repress it, a female voice snapped him back to reality.

"Vincent!"

The gunslinger shot his scarlet eyes down to the standing princess, her hands at her waist.

"We know where they're going, might as well head there now, right? I mean, taking the time to head all the way back to the Gold Saucer or Cosmo Canyon would be a bad idea, so we should probably head straight into Junon and find out what we can from there." Vincent nodded and stepped out of the tunnel. Yuffie ran up beside him, making her usual playful gestures as she spoke. "Sooo... we know where we're going, but there's still the problem of how are we gonna get there?"

"The safest and quietest way would be on foot."

"The whole way? You've gotta be kidding me! We just came from there yesterday, now we gotta go all the way back?! Ugh!" She fell back to lean into the wall and folded her arms across her chest. "Besides, they could leave Junon by the time we get all the way over there."

"Yuffie, they believe us to be dead, so stealing one of the enemy's vehicles before we leave the city is a risk to blowing our cover. Unless..."

"...Unless what?"

"If we could find some enemy clothing, we could sneak out of here."

"You mean, disguises?" Yuffie stifled a giggle, trying to visualize what the great Vincent Valentine would look like without his trademark red cape-over-leather ensemble. "Well, sounds like a plan." She then turned to their prisoner, who was seated down against the wall. "What do we do with him?"

Vincent knew that to maintain their cover, witnesses were a risk that had to be eradicated. Before he could unholster his Outsider to end the man's life as quickly and painlessly as possible, the three froze in place once they made out a low growling emanating from above. With his metallic claw, Vincent immediately grabbed Yuffie by her arm and pulled her behind him, slowly moving the two back towards the perceived strategic security of the tunnel that ran a long way down into an impenetrable darkness.

Once inside some ways, a trio of tailless, panther-like monsters with a whip-like projection sticking from their backs jumped down from above and landed on the gully floor, facing the three humans. Vincent recognized the ebony-colored, snarling beasts as Guard Hounds, mutated canines once used by ShinRa to protect the city's Mako reactors and headquarters. Now feral, random packs roamed the ruins of the metropolitan expanse to scratch out an existence, feeding on anything or anyone they could manage to overpower.

"They must have been drawn out by the bodies from the firefight," Vincent theorized, still keeping Yuffie close behind him as the three hounds snarled threateningly.

By now their prisoner had jumped to his feet and started backing up with the two as well. Vincent raised his Death Penalty and took aim with his free hand. He turned his head back when he heard what sounded like the charging footsteps of two quadrupeds coming up behind them. He spun around and quickly fired his weapon into the face of another Guard Hound, but the second one was already too close to dispatch. Vincent shoved Yuffie out of the way just before the pouncing mutt connected it's predatory dive.

"Vincent!" Yuffie called out worriedly while raising her Conformer.

Before she could rescue her tackled compatriot, the trio of Guard Hounds growled in a menacing modus as if they would attack the following second. Acting on a impulse, Yuffie threw it at the trio outside of the tunnel entrance while Vincent grappled with his canine foe. One of the monsters was caught in the weapon's path and was incapacitated, but the giant shuriken bounced off the wall of the narrow gully as it boomeranged back and fell to the ground. The remaining two charged at her and the rebel, who both dove through the creatures out into the open gully.

Yuffie made a mad dash for her Conformer, resting near the pool of blood, knowing she needed the weapon to defend herself and save Vincent. Not knowing what else to do, the young rebel took off after her, hoping for protection until he could exploit any chance to escape the two AVALANCHE members and make it back to his friends. Yuffie picked up her weapon just as the two monsters caught up with them. She rotated her shuriken until she eyed the green materia that she was looking for, and cast the elemental spell, Bolt 3.

As if by divine intervention, a flash of thunder sounded and a huge, blinding bolt of lightning shot down from the heavens and punctured the earth directly in front of her. She shielded her eyes from the blast with her free arm and waited until the crackling of electricity settled before she opened them to look at two blackened, smoking corpses melted into the ground. The concrete was cracked and cratered from such an extreme attack, looking as if it could collapse with enough force. Yuffie let out a sigh of relief, though it was short-lived.

From such an advertisement of static display, more Guard Hounds jumped down into the gully, two replacing the charred corpses and another two using the rubble from the cave-in behind the ninja and rebel to cut off their only chance of escape. Effectively surrounded, Yuffie turned to lock eyes with the rebel beside her. He simply stared back at her and shrugged.

"Nice knowing you?" he eked out, at a loss at what else to say.

They stared helplessly at the snarling beasts, waiting for the forthcoming joint attack. Yuffie was preparing herself to jump out of harm's way at the last second, but she did feel bad for the rebel beside her, and even briefly considered grabbing his arm and taking him with her. Thinking of such an act reminded her of Vincent and the last time she saw him wrestling with the huge predator, and her fear was then overtaken with worry.

"Vincent!" she called out his name, hoping to hear some sort of reply from the gunslinger.

An inhuman, colossal roar was the response. Yuffie knitted her eyebrows, knowing such a prodigious animalistic shout could not have come from these snarling canines. The surrounded pair held their mouths agape in shock as they saw a Guard Hound fly overhead, pounding into the collapsed rubble behind them and sliding past the two new creatures. It whimpered and twitched slightly before it ceased moving altogether.

Yuffie and the young man spun around when they heard a canine yelp and turned to see one of the panther-like creatures being held up in the air by a gigantic purple beast with fearsome horns protruding from its head. It was a brilliant, demonic fiend of a tailed biped that began thrashing it's four-legged victim all over the narrow gully, smashing it into the ground and walls.

The remaining hounds of the pack charged the beast, only to be swatted away or crushed with ease by the leviathan. Yuffie noticed the long, flowing red garment hanging around the monster's waist like a loin cloth. She gasped, realizing the monstrosity was the Galian Beast form of Vincent. Yuffie and the rebel watched in awe as it slammed it's last enemy down into the blackened crater, repeatedly picking it back up and smashing it down again into the hole several more times, an act which caused the aforementioned cracks to spread around the walls of the gully. It waved its arms around, raised it's jaws to the sky to let off a final wild, ferocious roar, leaped up high into the air, and flattened the helpless mutt underfoot with tremendously crushing force.

The chaos climaxed with a frightening rumble as the earth shook beneath them and the concrete collapsed diagonally, starting behind the Galian Beast. It fell backwards, still shrieking, while Yuffie and the rebel slid forward and tumbled down into the abyss.

------------

"I just hope they stay that way..." Tifa said after she let out a deep sigh, relieved to hear that her two friends were still alive.

"Don't worry about them, you know they can take care of themselves." Cloud didn't mention anything about Vincent and Yuffie to Tifa earlier because they were still in the presence of their captors.

He deliberately waited until they were left alone so he could preserve their free friend's covers as confirmed dead. Tifa smiled to Cloud, a sincerity that warmed the swordsman inside, feeling as if it had been forever since she had seen her do so. The two of them, along with Jethro, sat in the tiny prison cell of a warehouse building that was deep behind the streets of the city of Junon, still in the closing stages of rebuilding itself from the WEAPON attack months earlier. Now feeling somewhat brighter due to such news, knowing that all her friends were now safe, more or less, she was inclined to her usual optimism for other's benefit through casual conversation to get their minds off of the situation.

"I think I'm starting to see why you always pair up those two," she said with a smile, sitting across from Cloud in the little room. Jethro was on the seat opposite from the door. "They really are the ones in the gang that can take care of themselves the best."

"Yeah, they compliment each other quite nicely," Cloud agreed with a sniff, his arms crossed. "Vincent keeps Yuffie in line and Yuffie prevents Vincent from getting too detached towards the situation."

"And it's good for their personalities, too. I don't know if you've noticed, but Vincent seemed to be a lot less... apathetic lately."

"And Yuffie's been using her head a lot more," Cloud cocked a smile. "Can you imagine if this kept up and they completely traded roles? Yuffie as the dark, mysterious wise one with Vincent bumbling around and talking everyone's ears off?" A visualization of such an absurd thought made Tifa laugh out whatever was left of her sorrows, making Cloud grin inside for seeing such a wonderful sight.

Jethro could not help but chuckle as well, a quick thought of Vincent skipping around in a childish manner while giggling like a schoolgirl shooting through his mind. He leaned his head back into the cold wall behind him and stared up at the tiled ceiling, immediately shrugging off such a picture because of the realization of what Vincent would do to him if the marksman ever found any of this out.

------------

Yuffie groaned and rolled over on something bumpy and solid before opening her eyes. As her vision finally focused, she saw a figure silhouetted against the light of a street lamp, surprisingly still on despite the inhospitality of the deserted city, probably due to the ambient power resonating from the Mako reactors.

"Vincent?"

The gunslinger was kneeled down beside the seated little ninja, his face and clothes dirtied and stained from the recent battle. "You alright?"

She began to sit up, groaning as she did so. Her whole body was pretty sore, but thankfully not hurting.

"I think I'm fine..." she said as she clumsily rose to her feet. She would have dropped down in her unsettled state were it not for Vincent catching her in his arms. "On second thought, I might need to rest for a bit."

She chuckled weakly as Vincent supported her towards a seat by the fire that was raging just outside of the entrance of their shelter. She saw that they were underneath an old, rusty steel structure, a piece of a skeleton that was supposed to be used for the construction of some sort of building, now abandoned like the rest of the ruinous, desolate expanse of the wasteland between two sectors. It was low and tiny, maybe no bigger than a half of an average hotel room, but it was secure on all sides save for the opening in the front where the fire was blazing.

Vincent set her down on a metallic crate and stood up to examine the rest of her body for more injuries, but she was just dirty and smudged all over, much like he was due to the fall. She leaned forward and rested her elbows above her knees, still feeling disoriented from such a drop. She finally looked up and saw a plate-like ceiling hundreds of feet above their heads stretching as far as the eye could see, with the only light peeking through the hole above from where they fell. Judging by the dimness from above, she could tell it had been nightfall for some time now.

"Wow, we must be in the Slums... how long was I out?" Yuffie inquired, rubbing her head.

"Quite awhile," the sharpshooter replied while surveying the area around them, a deserted wasteland filled with garbage and discarded machinery. "It looks like we're close to Sector 6," he recounted, recalling his days as a Turk when he would go through missions in the Slums to seek out and eradicate targets designated as threats to the ShinRa corporation. "We should stay here tonight and look for a way out tomorrow. Yuffie, you should get some sleep. I'll take the first watch. Wild creatures aside, there's still Moira to worry about."

Yuffie gasped as she remembered the danger of the female jester. With the recent confusion of everything that had recently transpired, the threat of the supernatural puppet slipped her mind.

"I almost forgot about her! Wow, that would have been bad!" She then sat back up, now recovered from her wooziness, and watched as Vincent sat across from her to stare at the fire. "I still remember that dream, those hands... ugh!"

She shuddered when she remembered the voices and other ghastly occurrences. Yuffie sighed the images away and dropped her gaze to idly stare at the floor. After a few moments, she raised her head and looked over at Vincent. His long rifle was set beside him, and the Outsider rested in his waist holster. Yuffie saw these and remembered her own weapon. She looked around and saw it had been placed by the wall inside the shelter.

"Anyways, I'm not that sleepy. It's not that late, y'know." Yuffie curled her legs up to her chest and folded her arms over her knees, placing her chin down to her wrist, relaxing herself into a fetal position. "Besides, you need me around to protect you, remember?" she scoffed playfully to herself and rocked back and forth a little bit, eying the fire.

"Suit yourself," he replied, his arms crossed underneath his cape as he watched the flames dance. "Besides... you've had enough sleep for the last couple of days, haven't you?" he stated flatly, referring to her consistent slumber all yesterday and last night, added with her recent unconsciousness.

As the statement registered, Yuffie froze, then shot her head up with her mouth hanging loosely and her eyeballs practically bulging out of her skull in astonishment. "Did dark and gloomy VINCENT VALENTINE just make a JOKE?!" The caped gunslinger simply stared back with an unreadable blankness, his burgundy hues twinkling from the light of the small campfire. "No way... oh my gawd! And I was around to witness it! Everyone's gonna be sooo jealous!"

She let out a huge grin before she jumped over the fire and gave Vincent a spur of the moment bear hug, an act which pretty much bewildered the sharpshooter.

"Is that a crime?" he asked, an unexpected inquiry that further amazed the Wutaian princess.

"Of course not!" she answered with a giggle. "Your jokes are kinda lame, Vinnie..." she said brightly while looking up at the man she embraced. "But it's a start."

* * *

**Author's note: As promised, the url to the manga--** **http : / / tinyurl . com / 5z9hg2**


	6. Atoning for Failures Past

**Beyond Paradise II**

_D__isclaimer: I do not own Yuffie, Vincent, or anything/anybody else in this fiction, they belong to Square Enix. I also don't own previously established fictitious characters such as Moira, Zeb, or Jethro. They were created by the original fan fic's author, tolerant. This is not an "official" sequel by the original author, more like a tribute by me since the original has been discontinued, unfortunately. I am not affiliated with tolerant in any way, shape, or form (other than being a fan, of course)._

**Author's note: Wow, this was a first... I spent two whole days on my latest installment. Once I finished, I realized that the story was so long that I had to break it down into two separate chapters (15 and 16). Hope that's okay, and I hope you enjoy them both, as I spent an ungodly amount of time on them.**

* * *

_If I could have my wasted days back  
Would I use them to get back on track?  
Stop to warm at karma's burning  
Or look ahead, but keep on turning?_

_Do I have the strength  
To know how I'll go?  
Can I find it inside  
To deal with what I shouldn't know?_

_Frantic  
--James Hetfield_

**- Chapter 16: Atoning for Failures Past**

In the middle of the night, Cid crept carefully down the hall, trying his best to make the squeaky floor sound as little as possible. He made it to a room by the end of the corridor, closest to the stairs. A public restroom, he opened it carefully, cringing his face as it creaked lightly. He took a quick look around and dashed into the dark room, trying to mentally block out the pains from his still-critical wounds. Using the lamps in the hall as his only source of light, he carefully opened the drawer under the sink and fumbled around until he pulled out a pack of cigarettes he had hidden there days before in case of an emergency.

"Finally..." he rasped in a whisper while taking out his lighter. He stuck the stick of tobacco in his mouth, but before he could ignite the flame, the lights flicked on and he shot his head towards the doorway to see Shera with her arms crossed, shaking her head with a smile. "Goddammit, woman!"

--

Before dawn broke the next morning, Yuffie and Vincent already began traversing the downtown-like atmosphere of Sector 6. Though now in ruins and neglect, the lights from the street lamps and neon signs created a bright, ghostly ambiance for the duo as they trekked underneath an illegible sign and found themselves in a shady-looking shanty town with shops in every direction.

"This is the Sector 6 Wall Market," Vincent announced, recognizing the landmarks.

"The Sector 6 Wall Market? Isn't this the place where that bastard Don Corneo used to live?!" She then clenched her fist in resentment, remembering when she was held against her will on Da Chao back in Wutai with Elena of the Turks, scared out of her mind but wishing she could have wrung the perverted self-proclaimed pimp's fat, greasy neck. "Grr! Where's his mansion, I wanna burn that place to the ground if its still standing!!"

"Yuffie, there may be predatory creatures around here."

"Vinnie, he wanted to do strange things to me! That was so wrong, I just... ooh!" She was steaming, her face red with anger. Her companion chose to remain silent, not wishing to possibly exacerbate the situation. "Hmph! If he were here right now, I'd...!"

The two continued to walk down the deserted streets and could make out a wall of wreckage in the distance rising up all the way to the plate, the damaged parts of Sector 6 when Sector 7 was annihilated all those months before.

"Yuffie."

"We can use that to get back up to the surface, right?" Yuffie asked as they maneuvered a downed power line, still sparking dangerously. "Hey... whatever happened to that one guy we had tied up? I haven't seen him."

"The last I saw of him, he landed somewhere across the wasteland from us."

"And I assume you didn't go look for him," Yuffie shrugged and placed her hands on her hips as they continued their stroll through the neon-lit pathways towards the debris wall. She noticed each store and restaurant they passed by were in shambles, the windows broken as if they had been looted. "Vinnie?"

Vincent slightly turned his head towards her direction, silently letting her know he was listening, more or less.

"What do you think is going to happen now?" Her caped compatriot shot a glance at her, questioning the ambiguity of such an inquiry. "Well, I mean... do you think we can set things right again? With Cloud and Tifa captured; Barret, Reeve and Nanaki out of the picture; and Cait Sith and Cid unable to help out, it's just you and me. Everybody's counting on us, everybody's lives are in our hands... well, and your claw."

"Thinking in such negative terms only makes you feel worse."

"Yeah, I know, I know, but I just have never had this kind of responsibility before. I've never had people rely on me like this, which is kind of depressing, if you ask me..."

Vincent gave it a moment. "Things have a way of working themselves out."

Yuffie quickly turned her head and knitted her eyebrows at the gunslinger, surprised at such optimism. "Weird... That was probably the most cheerful, positive thing I ever heard you say!" She laughed a bit, finding some amusement at hearing such an unexpected 'pep talk' from Vincent Valentine of all people.

Looking back in front of her while strolling down the dirt pathway, she slowly dropped her gaze to stare idly at the passing ground while she thought back to all the bad things that had happened to all the members of AVALANCHE, all her friends.

She suddenly felt a mysterious, pained sadness while thinking of the possibility of being separated from her last comrade, the one who had stuck with her through thick and thin, good times and bad.

_And embarrassing, as well..._ she added, reminiscing about that recent royal ceremony back in Wutai where she had gotten the Wutai character for '_sun'_ painted on her face.

She put her hand over her cheek to feel where the dye had been since she had gotten it, realizing that it has all but faded away now. She felt a gentle turning in her belly while she remembered the scene up on Da Chao, gazing down at the bonfire below with her gun-toting companion. She sighed at the memory, then admitted to herself that she could not bear to lose another friend to the evils and hardships that seemed to follow them at every twist and turn, every nook and cranny, all the way straight into hell and back again. She thought back to the awkward request she had given to him the night before.

"You... you still remember your promise to me, right?" she asked the caped marksman quietly with a downhearted sorrow in her voice while her head hung to the floor, her short bangs swaying slightly in front of her eyes as she walked.

Vincent gave a light sigh, seemingly sympathizing with her pained contemplation but while simultaneously giving off a kind of annoyed sentiment at her juvenile angst. He then felt a brief, oddly inscrutable queasiness as he thought back to the other night when the little ninja had curled herself up next to him underneath his cloak and awkwardly asked for him to protect her in the same way their fellow AVALANCHE member Cloud Strife does for their martial artist friend, Tifa Lockhart. Remembering the bizarre thoughts that shot through his mind before consenting to Yuffie's request failed to lull his current mysterious nausea, but for a reason he could not quite wrap his mind around due to the perplexity of such an ambiguous feeling – or perhaps because of a jarring denial – he actually tolerated the queasiness, as for some inexplicable explanation, if felt strangely comfortable and even welcoming to him.

Though to maintain a characteristic apathy to hide whatever this was that he was unsure of, he did not turn his head to her as they continued down the dirt pathway. Despite that, the young princess could have sworn she detected a faint, caring sincerity in his tone as he voiced his monotone reply.

"Yuffie, I remember."

That was all he said, but for the little ninja, that was all that was required. Yuffie smiled warmly at this, a welcome consolation to the numerous burdens that weighed down on her heavy heart. She could already feel her spirits begin to brighten.

"Well anyways, I guess you're right about the whole 'things working themselves out' thing. Who knows, we might like, find some really great unexpected help. Maybe Jenova'll come along and rescue us when we're staring down the barrels of five hundred machineguns. Heh, well, I just hope things will work themselves out for the better... Vincent Valentine, if you go and get yourself killed, I swear to Leviathan I'll kick your ass. Er, somehow."

Yuffie scratched her head awkwardly. Even Yuffie had to admit that she was not making any sense, an acknowledgment that baffled her. Normally, if she did not make any sense, she either would not have taken notice, or ignored the observation completely. Now she was catching herself in the act and basically scolding herself for doing so, something the little ninja had never done before.

_Dammit, Vincent, you overly-serious, melancholy little... see what you're doing to me?! You're a butt. _

Yuffie sighed, then looked over at her taller companion walking beside her. It seemed like he was in another one of his confrontations with his demons, but she didn't blame him. She was actually scared for him when she realized he lost control of his body to the Galian Beast, regardless of the fact that it was the only thing that saved their lives.

"You okay?"

Turning his head slightly, Vincent nodded, the lower half of his face hidden by the high collar of his cloak. Yuffie briefly stared at the collar and a thought crossed her mind. She studied the gunslinger's attire head to toe, then looked down at herself.

"Vinnie? I just had an idea. We're most likely wanted by like, _everybody_, right? I was thinking that maybe, while we're here, we could get some disguises like you mentioned before."

"You're suggesting donning civilian attire to blend in, using the situation of our assumed deaths to our advantage to better conduct our investigations and related activities in virtual safety due to the high likelihood that no one would be able to recognize us as members of AVALANCHE."

Yuffie froze in place and hung her neck down, her mouth agape and eyes staring at him in utter astonishment. The caped sharpshooter did not even stray his gaze from in front of him while he said all that.

"How long have you already been thinking about that?!"

Vincent stopped a few feet in front of her at the entrance of a clothing store, ransacked just like any other former business in the Wall Market, but with enough intact merchandise remaining to salvage through.

"You really know how to make a girl feel dumb," she scoffed while following him into the store. "But it's good that you're talking so much now!" Vincent shot her a defiant glance at such a gross exaggeration. "Er, you know what I mean. You actually saying more than three words every other day is a gi-normous improvement in of itself! God, maybe you won't be so boring to hang around, after all."

She snickered as the two walked around the interior, the floor littered with clothing and accessories tattered from the chaos that once ripped throughout Midgar. Yuffie reached into a rack of jean shorts and inadvertently pulled out a skirt.

"Bleagh!" she spat, sticking her tongue out in disgust before tossing the far too-girly garment over her shoulder.

Afterwards, while she she continued to rummage through the products, the thought of a piece of a feminine clothing archetype exposing her bare legs in a suggestive matter inadvertently got Yuffie thinking once again about how much she hated the late Don Corneo.

_If that tubby, perverted bastard was still alive, I would go nuclear on his fat ass! No... you can forget about nuclear, I would have gone full on ATOMIC on him!_ She pulled out a pair of men's jeans and examined them, thinking they would look good on Vincent. She navigated her way across the building towards Vincent while having another thought. _Wait... aren't those the same thing...? _She stepped up behind Vincent, who was lazily poking through a circular rack of jackets. She unfurled the jeans and laid it over the marksman's figure, deciding that it would be a perfect fit. "Hey, Vinnie?"

He turned around and looked down at the little ninja draping the garment over his own leather pants. "Yes, Yuffie?"

"...Are 'nuclear' and 'atomic' the same thing?"

There was a long pause as Vincent narrowed his eyes down at her, caught off-guard at such a random question.

--

The sun was just beginning to shine when the cell door creaked open and a guard stepped in. Cloud drowsily shot up from the noise, his eyes squinting sleepily, still adjusting to the light coming from the room outside. The guard gripped Cloud by the shoulder and yanked him out of the cell, slamming the barred door behind him just as Tifa and Jethro sat up, rubbing their eyes.

"Cloud!" Tifa exclaimed worriedly, holding onto the bars of the door as she watched a group of professional-looking people escort him through a door into the next room.

The area was small and simple, but obviously not an office. It seemed to be one used for interrogation. Two of the escorts forcefully shoved the AVALANCHE leader towards the middle of the room, right in front of a desk with a chair on either side and a bright lamp dangling from the ceiling, casting a pastel light onto the circular ring of illumination. Cloud saw Zeb, but strangely, he was not the one sitting on the chair opposite of the seat in front of him.

"Leave us," ordered the one who actually was.

The escorts exited and returned to the room with the cell, shutting the door behind them. Cloud examined the woman who sat across from him. She had fine, ebony skin and her short, jet black hair was somewhat wavy, straightened into an expensive hair cut. Wearing a pair of eyeglasses, she maintained a professional demeanor as she gazed at her 'guest.' Neatly dressed in a gray business-type suit with probably a skirt worn around her waist, she briefly unfolded her hands, which were resting on the table, to motion towards the empty seat on the other end of the table, in front of the blonde swordsman.

"Cloud Strife... please, have a seat."

Cloud narrowed his eyes towards her, unsure of who she was, then shifted his eyes to Zeb, who was standing beside her with his arms tucked behind his back. Hesitantly, he slid the metal chair back and slowly sat down.

------------

The supply truck screeched to a halt at the curb outside of a short building. The driver's voice could have been heard for miles as he shouted nervously.

_"Holy shit! We forgot the papers!"_

The driver and passenger began freaking out, arguing viciously, both blaming the other for being the one who forgot the important documents they needed for something they could not make clear.

_"Just turn around and head back as fast as you can, we need those things or the boss'll have our hides! Look, if we leave now, maybe we can get back soon enough so they won't get too pissed, okay? Go, go, go!"_

The truck used the entire avenue to make a U-turn and sped down the street from where they came, almost colliding with what few parked vehicles and opposing traffic there were. The two figures that jumped out from the back of the truck at the last second moved to stand on the curb. They watched the truck disappear into the tunnel.

"Well now,_ somebody's_ screwed," commented the smaller one, her short hair pressed down around her head with a navy blue baseball cap. "Guess the plan's scrapped now, huh?" she asked, referring to their original strategy of stowing away in the back of the truck with the hopes of finding out the location of the new rebel headquarters. "Looks like we'll have to find another way."

She adjusted her pair of eyeglasses, novelty bifocals that had no real affect on vision alteration whatsoever. The only reason Yuffie wore it was to further disguise her appearance to anybody that may have been a supporter of the protest group. With an idle sigh, she patted her dark blue skinny jeans and her short-sleeved baby-T, a yellow garment with the brand label _RETROSPECT_ layered across the chest in a creative design.

"Oh my gawd, I hate these clothes! They make me feel like one of those stupid dolls little girls play with." She then looked up at her much taller, long-haired companion. "What do you think, Vincent?"

The gunslinger, now clad in pepper gray-colored jeans with matching canvas shoes and a black button-up shirt sporting long sleeves to make his metallic golden arm less conspicuous, surveyed the semi-busy street. The almost pretty boy-type look was the little ninja's idea (_"You look like that guy from 'LOVELESS,' Vinnie!"), _much to the gunslinger's exasperation, as he could not have cared less what he dressed like. His somewhat pointy, sable-colored long hair slightly draped over his eyes now that his head band was tucked away in his long duffel bag along with his cape, weapons, and leather outfit.

"Would you have preferred the skirt?" he inquired flatly while casually reading a billboard sign across the street from them, finding out that an inn was close by.

Yuffie shuddered while recalling the far too feminine garment. "Grossness..." With another sigh, she turned her head over at the new Vincent, at a loss for what else to do. She had never seen him in regular clothing before, and she had to admit, the look fit him well. _God, Vinnie looks almost... human!_ she thought to herself while slowly rising her gaze upwards, starting at Vincent's shoes. _You know, I never noticed this before, but now that I really look at him, Vincent is actually kind of..._ She timely cut herself short as her gaze finally reached the gunslinger's face. He was staring at her, as if wondering what the hell her problem was. Her cheeks flushed red as she immediately shot her face to the ground in embarrassment. "I-I'm sorry, Vinnie. I was just– whoa!"

She almost dropped her Conformer, wrapped in a brown paper packaging to hide the weapon from the prying eyes of potential anti-AVALANCHE supporters, as Vincent grabbed her hand with his human one to usher her across the street. The feel of Vincent's bare skin on her palm caused the Wutaian princess to blush even redder. His duffel bag gripped in his claw, he let go of the teenager and allowed her to walk beside him once they reached the other side and made their way down the street.

Now that they blended in, Yuffie was greatly surprised to see that nobody they passed even batted them a second glance. They seemed to really pass for a couple of normal-looking citizens with nothing particularly special about them. Yuffie readjusted the shoulder strap on her carryall bag, leaving her hand over her bosom, gripping the strap to support the tension.

They entered the lobby of the relatively small, three-story inn. On the trip over to Junon, stowing away in the back of the enemy supply truck they had snuck onto, they decided over the city's main hotel for a smaller, out-of-the-way inn further into the metropolis due to the former being far too high-profile for such a delicate, low-key operation. In addition, with the vacation season drawing to a close, there was bound to be a large influx of people coming in from Costa del Sol, an occurrence that was bound to once again make the popular hotel's prices skyrocket.

Since the two figured they would most likely have an extended duration for their rescue mission – having to spend time scouting, coordinating, interrogating, and the like – they unanimously settled on a base of operations in a quieter part of town as the most logical choice.

The pair approached the front desk and were met with a cordial beam from the receptionist, a stocky little man with a handlebar mustache. "Hello, welcome to the Westley. How can I help you two?"

"We need one room with two beds, please," Vincent answered, his manner and tone still bland despite the change of his former raiment.

"Of course, sir," he replied in his ebullient voice while reaching under him for a set of keys, the number 8 emblazoned on the plastic tag. "Here you go, and the cost of the room will be one hundred fifty Gil."

Vincent reached into his pant pocket and set the coins on the desk in front of the receptionist, who took the money and bowed with another smile. "Enjoy your stay, you two!"

With a nod, Vincent turned around and headed towards the staircase. Almost comically, Yuffie looked back at him, then back to the hotel employee, then back at Vincent.

"Thanks, mister," she called out with an appreciative wave to the portly fellow, who bowed down happily once again, while running to catch up with her partner. Just as she got out of sight, she heard someone from downstairs begin to make a ruckus about the whereabouts of his missing money. Yuffie reached into her back pocket and pulled out just over two hundred Gil, smirking to herself. "Oh yeah, I still got it..."

Vincent unlocked the door and looked into the room, still ever vigilant for any signs of danger, despite the fact that the two of them looked completely different from their widely-known AVALANCHE appearances.

"Jeez, calm down, will ya?" Yuffie chided while strutting past the sharpshooter. "Nobody knows we're here. Oh, dibs on the window bed!" she called out as she threw her bag and packaged Conformer onto the foot of the wooden frame-supported futon. "And I call the shower first!" she added while stretching across her mattress.

Vincent looked behind him at where the bathroom door would usually be, but then realized that not only did the tiny room lack a closet, but a lavatory as well. "Yuffie, there's no bathroom here. I think there's a public one everyone has to share somewhere on this floor."

"What?!" Yuffie whined as she shot up into a seated position. "What a cheap-ass place!" She fell back down onto the bed with her arm over her face, obviously annoyed. "Vinnie, go out there and look for the bathroom for me, will ya?"

"Yuffie..."

The disguised princess shot back up and clasped her fingers in front of her puppy dog eyes, begging Vincent as innocently as she could. "Pleaaase, Vinnie? Vincent?"

"You know that doesn't work on me, Yuffie," he reminded her while leaning against the frame of the open doorway.

"Please? Pretty please with a cherry on top?" she continued childishly, undeterred.

Vincent sighed in defeat after a period of silence, that very same brief, mysterious queasiness shooting through his stomach yet again. He turned and walk down the hall in the direction of the stairwell as Yuffie snickered to herself in victory. After a few moments, she leaned forward and stared at the door, her gaze focused at nothing while she continued to think about how interestingly well-put together her gun-toting companion looked, though such a thought surprised even her. She shook said thought from her mind just in time to see a familiar figure stroll past the open doorway.

"Cait Sith?!"

After a short stillness, the animatronic feline poked his head through the doorway with a curious expression. "...Yuffie Kisaragi? Good heavens, is that you?" he asked, not fully recognizing his teenaged Wutaian ally. The second after she nodded, the robotic cat rushed towards her and leaped up into her arms, that comical guffaw of his accompanying the big, heartfelt hug it gave her.

"Boy, am I glad to see you!" Yuffie exclaimed ecstatically, indescribably relieved to see one of her good friends after undergoing the agonizing series of unfortunate events that recently occurred. "What are you doing here, ya little fur ball?!"

"You'll never guess who showed up at the door to pick up Reeve and I!"

Vincent reached the end of the hallway and saw the blue 'man/woman' sign that indicated the room behind it was the lavatory he was sent to locate. Steam was seeping through the narrow openings in the door, signifying that someone was using the shower within. The sound of running water then stopped, implying that the occupant inside had just finished and was ready to soon come out.

"Hey, Vinnie!" The marksman turned to look at his euphoric Wutaian comrade. His eyes winced slightly as soon as he realized Yuffie had a jubilant Cait Sith cradled in her arms. "Look who I found!"

"Vince, my man! How's it going, you old coot?!" he greeted in his funny accent with a joyous wave. "Aren't you a sight for my sore eyes!"

Before Vincent could respond, warm steam coursed out in front of him as the lavatory door swung inwards with a whoosh, causing the gunslinger to redirect his gaze towards the finished bathroom occupant. He narrowed his stare in surprise as he feasted his eyes on the red-haired man standing before him who was gripping his towel over his waist.

"No way... Vincent Valentine?!" he exclaimed with a spirited grin. "What's up, yo?!"

Vincent grunted, baffled that he was suddenly staring into the playful eyes of his former enemy, Reno the Turk.

* * *

**Author's note: Whoo! I'm finally finished!  
**


	7. Who Needs Enemies?

**Beyond Paradise II**

_Disclaimer: I do not own Yuffie, Vincent, or anything/anybody else in this fiction, they belong to Square Enix. I also don't own previously established fictitious characters such as Moira, Zeb, or Jethro. They were created by the original fan fic's author, tolerant. This is not an "official" sequel by the original author, more like a tribute by me since the original has been discontinued, unfortunately. I am not affiliated with tolerant in any way, shape, or form (other than being a fan, of course)._

**Author's note: Ya-har, matey's! It be 11am on a Friday... the dilemma I be havin' is nothin' short of a catastrophe, as I usually be startin' on me stories on THURSDAYS right as I get back to me shanty after me last class around 2pm. But me matey Ashtray came on over and we partied the night away until setting sail to seek out more of our crew, ya har. Don't get me wrong now, I do enjoy consorting with me cohorts and things to that accord, but it's just that well, writing's me one true passion, ya scallywags! Oh, and unfortunately this be the only chapter I be makin' for this weekend, as I must dedicate the remainder of my time off to homework and studying, yar... As a final note, I give credit where credit be due, and it goes to me reader **_**Szahara again**_**, a hearty observer to me story, pointing out interesting things that even I myself failed to realize, I did ya-har. Today be September 19! International Talk Like a Pirate Day, yo-ho! **

* * *

_So close, no matter how far  
Couldn't be much more from the heart  
Forever trust in who we are  
And nothing else matters  
Trust I seek and I find in you  
Every day for us, something new  
Open mind for a different view  
And nothing else matters_

_Nothing Else Matters  
--James Hetfield_

**- Chapter 17: Who Needs Enemies?**

"Jethro," Tifa started while sitting down back at her seat, her wine-colored eyes piercing the ex-rebel's peacock blues, "You have to know what's going on around here, or at least have _some_ idea of what is. What's Zeb got planned around here, what's he doing?"

"Well, I'm afraid that I myself don't know much more about all this than you do, Miss Lockhart."

"How could that be, you were Zeb's right hand man, weren't you?"

"Yes, I was. Though, from the beginning I was always suspecting Zeb was becoming increasingly unbalanced. He must have sensed this, and despite his instability, the fact remains that he is a quite intelligent and devious man, and there were several things he hid from even my own eyes in the event that I should ever have been captured and interrogated, or in this case, defected. Even though he and I had been close friends since childhood, there were a myriad of things he chose to remain quite cagey about."

"So you didn't know of this Junon transfer?"

"Not precisely. I was somewhat aware. The thing is, this was supposed to be reserved for some sort of fall out shelter or something should we ever have been compromised by AVALANCHE."

"You could have told us about this place earlier back at the Ghost Hotel, you know that? It would have saved us a lot of needless trouble as Vincent and Yuffie would have already known where to look!" She kept her exclamation down to a whisper, still wary that the guards were no more than a few arm's lengths away from the cell.

"I understand that, and I implore you to believe me when I say that I would have mentioned it before if I had recalled it," he defended himself while crossing his arms and hooking his ankle over the top of his knee. "But we were constantly talking about possible secondary bases, and Junon was so casually passed up I had not given it a second thought."

Tifa kept silent and maintained a straight face, a contradiction to her inner feelings towards the man. She still did not fully trust Jethro, and deep down, the martial artist could detect a hint of surreptitiousness within the ex-rebel, like he was still hiding something extremely important. She believed he remained abnormally calm in many situations and his several unexpected skills, such as the uncanny ability to throw Yuffie's Conformer or his various utility talents, only worked to increase her suspicion towards Jethro.

"Well," the young blonde man continued, "I had overheard talks from some of the HQ guards – the very ones that 'escorted' us here – of something about ShinRa. I could never quite figure out the entire story, but I can assure you that whoever truly is behind all of this, they are most likely affiliated with ShinRa in some way, shape, or form."

"That explains why Cloud recognized those solider-types as ex-ShinRas."

"Yes, the personal bodyguards of Zeb and I used to work for the company. I imagine–"

Before Jethro could continue, the door of the room Cloud was taken into opened and the blonde swordsman slowly walked out with his face fixed on the ground, an act which one would expect from someone who was in deep reflection from recently hearing shocking news.

"Cloud! Are you okay?" The martial artist asked him worriedly, shooting up to grip the bars of the cell door.

Cloud raised his head towards them with a serious look on his face, an expression that unsettled Tifa and Jethro. The guards from before ushered the AVALANCHE leader back into the cell with his compatriots and slammed it shut, the latch mechanism automatically locking itself with an echoing _crick!_

"Well?" Jethro inquired in his usual calmly manner while Cloud sat back down. "Speak up, man."

The swordsman took a deep breath and rested his head back on the cold wall behind him, trying to find the right words to best explain to his friends about what minuscule but revealing information he had just been told.

"Well, I was right about ShinRa being behind in all this. Looks like this really is bigger than we originally thought it to be. Turns out, the anti-AVALANCHE protest group we've been completely focused on all this time is just the tip of one really big iceberg."

------------

"Reno?" Vincent was surprised to find that a former operative of ShinRa, Incorporated stood before him.

Unsure of how to react, the marksman slightly shifted his footing and arms into a very subtle, open-ended defensive stance in case he would find himself on the receiving end of some sort of attack.

"Wha-ho, hang on there, buddy," Reno snickered with one of his hands raised in his defense, the other still holding onto the towel around his waist to keep him decent. "We're not here to kick your asses again."

"What?!" Yuffie shouted in disgust at such a remark from halfway down the hall. "If you don't recall, we tore you damn Turks a new one every single time you tried to mess with us!"

"Chill _out_, babe," the half-naked man smirked as he ambled past the gunslinger and made his way down the hall towards his room. "Don't have to take it so hard," he teasingly retorted once again while passing by the little ninja.

He stopped in front of a door at the opposite end of the corridor a couple of rooms down from Yuffie and Vincent's, but before he could reach for the knob, the little ninja called out again.

"You arrogant carrot-head!" Yuffie huffed while stepping towards the Turk with her fists irately clenched.

"Yuffie, calm down, lass! He's only trying to get a rise out of ya!" The tiny frame of Cait Sith tried it's best to hold the princess back, both his arms pressed against either of her thighs in an attempt to dissuade her from doing anything irrational. "We're all on the same team now, remember that!"

Vincent, still standing in front of the open bathroom door, thinned his eyes in disbelief after hearing what Cait Sith had just said.

"Wait, wait, you're that little brat that was hanging upside down from the statue?" Reno inquired with genuine curiosity, recalling the time up on the mountains of Da Chao when she and his fellow Turk, Elena, were bound up against the rock face by the late Don Corneo. "I didn't even recognize ya!"

"The name," the disguised Wutaian started, irritation clearly perceptible in her voice at the reference to her as nothing but a brat, "Is Yuffie. Kisaragi. And don't you forget it."

"Reno, stop being such an ass," came a female voice from behind them.

They all looked towards the stairs to see Elena walking up the steps along with another woman with short, jet black hair that was slightly spiked in the back in a feminine manner. They both wore the traditional Turks attire, black business-type suits that sported zippers.

"Turks, huh?" Vincent began questionably while crossing his arms.

Reno leaned against his door. "Hey, no need to be so defensive. Technically, we're not Turks anymore now that ShinRa's gone under, so you don't have to be so grating. Besides, didn't you use to be one yourself?"

Vincent recalled their last encounter with the Turks, in the subway tunnels of Midgar following the explosion at the ShinRa Headquarters that effectively decapitated the company. Apparently, even under strict orders to eliminate AVALANCHE, they were not at all interested in fighting since their employers lost power. The Turks simply left them alone, seemingly bearing no true enmity towards them to begin with. As Reno, Elena, and Rude so casually spoke of their deeds during every encounter with AVALANCHE, they had just been 'doing their job.'

Yuffie inspected the attire of Elena and the unknown woman standing beside her. "Why are you guys still wearing your uniforms? And who's the new girl?"

"We just do. Oh, and my name's Madison, I was on a different assignment at the time Tseng's party hunted you guys," answered the young, sable-haired woman with surprising cheerfulness. "And with everything that's going on, we're partners now, I guess."

"Mm-hmm," Yuffie retorted skeptically while placing her hands on her hips. "I didn't even know there were more of you guys."

"Surprised?" Reno queried in a sly manner behind the teenager, trying to be as slick as possible. "There's plenty of us, sister, but only half of us– whaagh!"

Before Reno could finish his sentence, the door he was leaning against opened and he fell inwards. Any smoothness he attempted to establish was all but shattered now with his comical stumble.

"Ugh... put your pants on, Reno," the muscular Turk, Rude, spat before he stepped out of the room while straightening his tie.

Rude stood himself in the spot where Reno had been and settled his gaze on the several people in front of him, the ambient lights illuminating his sunglasses just enough to allow Yuffie and Cait Sith to somewhat see themselves reflected off the bald man's eye wear. He folded one fist over the other and rested them under the front of his waist in a professional manner.

"Gawd, how many of you are here?" Yuffie asked in a grumble while idly rubbing her nose with her eyes closed and face turned away.

"Just us five here in Junon, the fifth being undercover within the rebel ranks, but we lost contact with that spy the other day," answered Elena, the current youngest member of the former black-ops group, both in age and time employed. "Rufus is watching over everyone else and a few of our injured people back at the Healin Lodge... er, w-wait, it's the other way around."

"Rufus Shinra?" asked Yuffie. "He's alive?"

"Um, yeah."

Yuffie was somewhat surprised at hearing this news. The last she had seen of Rufus had been the month before, during Meteorfall. Sent there along with Vincent by Cloud to assist Reeve Tuesti's evacuation of Midgar, she had seen the severely injured ShinRa president being loaded into a helicopter via stretcher and remembered thinking that he was probably not going to make it. In truth, Yuffie didn't really care about the leader, but she did want answers pertaining to her former enemies' presence here in Junon.

"What are you guys doing here, anyways?" asked the disguised teenager. "Why the heck are we even working together?"

"We're here for revenge," answered Rude coldly, his posture not shifted. "This time, it's personal."

"Yup," added Elena while gripping her left elbow with her right hand, giving her an almost shy demeanor. "We're after Moira, too."

"You know about that freaky little clown girl?!" Yuffie questioned with her eyes wide in shock, stunned at such a concurrence.

"She's done something to Rufus and Tseng. They won't wake up... They're both in some sort of coma, but in otherwise stable condition. Then she possessed one of our guys and used him to shoot two other Turks before making him place a bullet in his own head." Yuffie and Cait Sith visibly winched from hearing Elena reveal such a horrible thing. "All this in one night."

"So now we want some answers, as well," Madison chimed in while resting her hands in her pockets. "With one man dead, two more in a comatose state and another two in critical condition, most of us that were still standing set out to find this doll freak..."

She paused, looked behind her and stepped aside to allow an elderly couple to pass through. The short seniors kept their heads down as they walked past all the people in the hall, intelligently ignoring the discussion as none of their business. Instead of continuing, Cait Sith suggested they take their conversation somewhere more private. With an agreeing nod, Elena opened the door beside the bathroom and waited for everyone to enter before she calmly shut it, leaving it unlocked for Reno to come in later.

"This is mine and Madison's room," Elena announced while she sat down on the bed beside the window before taking up where Madison had left off. "So anyways, while investigating North Corel, we got a tip that Reeve was sighted at Gold Saucer. Since he was a ShinRa exec, we were hoping that he might have known something about all this, that maybe Moira was another escaped company experiment or something."

"But when we got there, we found that the same thing had happened to him," Madison adjoined from her spot standing in front of the window before motioning her head towards Cait Sith, who sat beside the little ninja on the other bed. "Your little cat friend over there was kind enough to fill us in on everything he knew. That's how we found out about who this puppet thing is, what she's capable of, and how if we kill it, everybody she's spirited away to that Dreamland place'll wake up."

"Wait, so where's Reeve?!" Yuffie asked anxiously as she shot her look around the room at the different faces, worried for the safety of the defenseless middle-aged man. She was still aware of the constant threat from any anti-AVALANCHE supporters that may be lurking around the amusement park.

"He's fine," a now clothed – albeit sloppily in his characteristic manner – Reno replied casually while entering the room to stand beside Rude. "We brought him to Cosmo Canyon using our helicopter. Wow, a little crowded in here, ain't it?"

"Door?" Rude reminded the redhead, who rolled his eyes and lazily reached out behind him to slam the wooden door shut with one hand.

"And that pilot buddy of yours tried to kill us as soon as we stepped through the front door of the inn," Reno resumed while leaning on the wall to his right, most of his forearm resting just before the corner of the wall that turned at a ninety-degree angle to open up to largest part of the room, which was the area for the beds and single nightstand. "Something about thinking that we were the ones who had done something to Reeve, ha... That old fart's crazy, yo!"

The animatronic cat beside her guffawed as it thought back to the hilarious incident where Cid had jumped out from a doorway armed with a wooden crutch to vainly attack and completely startle an unsuspecting Reno (_"DIE, TURK!")._

"Finally, something we can agree on," Yuffie stated half-jokingly before she kicked off her shoes and crossed her legs on the bed.

"So did you find anything out?" inquired the gunslinger, who had been silent all the way up to that point, just standing leaned against the wall opposite of the beds with his arms folded across his chest. He looked over at Elena, who shook her head regretfully.

Cait Sith placed a hand to his chin. "Now, AVALANCHE I can understand, but what Zeb and Moira would want with the former head of ShinRa, Inc. and the leader of the Turks is beyond me."

"We probably don't know much more than you guys at this point," answered Reno with a shrug. "The only reason we found out that Junon's where the party's at was when we all flew by Midgar last night after Cait Sith told us about your little crusade to get this Zeb fella. Not knowing where else to look, we thought we could dig something up about Zeb somewhere in the old ShinRa headquarters, but on the hike there, we came across a small convoy that looked like they were preparing for a big move. We waited for them all to head out and cut the last jeep off, pulled the driver and passenger out and then interrogated 'em for all they were worth before we wasted 'em."

Madison nodded. "Afterward, we checked in here, the quietest inn in town, and spent a few hours trying to find anything out before calling it a night. Then Elena and I set out this morning to check out this old boathouse we got a tip about, but so far, nothing."

"And here we are," Reno concluded after reaching behind him to scratch his upper back.

"So what now?" Cait Sith threw his question out into the open.

"We go out and find Cloud and Tifa, ya little fur ball!" Yuffie eagerly rejoindered as she shot up to her feet, inadvertently smacking the robotic feline upside the head in the process.

"Argh! You'll be the death of me, lass!"

"Like, shake down every person in Junon if we have to!"

"We can't just go out there and do something irrational like that," Madison chided. "We have a cover to maintain."

"What cover? All of you are still wearing your uniforms! How secretive is that?!"

"Hey! It helps us be more intimidating!" Reno snapped while clenching his fist in front of him.

Cait Sith sighed and tried to end the childish quarrel that was sure to come. "Settle down, you two..."

"Reno, you couldn't intimidate a 5-year-old schoolgirl if your life depended on it!!"

"I could SO intimidate a 5-year-old schoolgirl if my life depended on it!"

"Could not!"

"Guys--"

"Could so!"

"Could not!"

"COULD SO!"

"COULD NOT!"

"SHUT YER TRAPS, BOTH OF YA!" The room just about shook from such a tremor of an interjection. How a tiny thing made such a titanic noise was beyond everybody, even Cait Sith, who looked around at the faces staring at him in surprise, much to the embarrassment of the feline. "Oh my. Apologies, apologies."

"Stupid toaster oven..." Reno muttered under his breath while turning away insolently.

"I HEARD THAT!" Cait Sith screeched instantaneously in a voice just as loud as before, frightening the red-head so much that he jumped to his side with a look of terror streaked across his face, accidentally pinning Rude to the wall.

Reno's panicked expression and racing heart began to subside as he glared at the animatronic cat. He closed his eyes and barred his teeth in a grow while standing back in his original place, trying to save face by pretending as if it never happened. Though obviously annoyed at what had just taken place, Rude simply regained his balance from the wall, readjusted his sunglasses and tie, then returned to his previous professional stance with his hands folded in front of him below his waist. Reno then shot a furious glare at the Wutaian princess and growled when he heard Yuffie stifling her laughter at his expense.

"What? It was funny..." Yuffie defended herself while still trying to contain her cachinnation.

Rude actually had to hold Reno back as he took a threatening step towards the little ninja, prompting Vincent to uncross his arms and stance himself to intervene in case the ponytailed Turk tried something. Yuffie continued to laugh as Reno grunted in frustration. Seeing the that both Rude and Vincent were against him, Reno moved back to lean on the door away from the circle with his arms crossed.

_Now there's two of them... _was the thought that everyone had, more or less, of the smart-mouthed Turk and whining ninja.

"Alright, alright, can we get back to business?" Elena chimed in with a heavy sigh.

Though Elena was always known for taking her job much more seriously than her cohorts Reno and Rude, she was always worse at it than either of them, having various slips in professionalism, such as when she inadvertently revealed the Turks' mission to Cloud and his party months before at the Mythril Mine. Though she meant well, being so young and overeager gave her a proneness to amateur mistakes and embarrassing blunders.

"Go ahead, lass," the robotic feline offered politely. "The floor is all yours."

With an appreciative nod, Elena brushed the longer side of her blonde hair aside and resumed. "We should all start to work on finding out whatever we can about these anti-AVALANCHE guys, but we should keep a low profile and try not to compromise—"

"Hey!" Reno interrupted as he stepped up, pushing Rude out of his way in the process. "I'm the senior Turk here, I'm the one in charge!"

"But you said yourself, you're all not technically Turks anymore," Yuffie derided with a self-satisfactory sneer, still desiring to get the last laugh in their whole petty squabble.

Reno growled again and cracked his knuckles forebodingly. "That's it, ya little runt..."

"Bring it on, you lanky, stinkin'—"

"Yuffie," Vincent interpolated with his arms still crossed, effectively shutting both the fuming Turk and Wutaian princess up with such an unexpected interruption. "Please, stop bickering with Reno."

Yuffie was just as surprised as everyone else. She foresaw herself soon to be on the receiving end of a belittling scold as if she were a bratty child that would cause her to turn away in disgust, but she chose to counter anyways.

"But Vincent," she started, her tone somewhat reminiscent of a whining adolescent, "He used to—"

"Yuffie, please understand. Regardless of our past hostilities with the Turks, the reality now is that we must all cooperate if we ever hope to get anything accomplished. They stand to lose people they are concerned about, just the same as we do, so continuing to fight amongst ourselves will not only get us nowhere, but may quite possibly make things a whole lot worse. If it's not in your ability to befriend the Turks, a grudging tolerance will have to do for now if we can ever hope to get anything done."

A quietness blanketed the small room as the words of wisdom sank into everybody's ears. Yuffie was surprised that Vincent had left her speechless once again.

_How the hell does he keep doing that? _Yuffie thought to herself with a sigh. Taking the fact that her gun-toting friend did not reprimand her like the child everyone else seemed to view her as and chose instead to persuade her on a mature, adult level as a complimentary consolation, the little ninja nodded with an understanding half-smile. "You're right."

She gave one last scornful glance to the redhead before hunching forward in her cross-legged position, resting her left elbow above it's adjacent thigh and relaxing her chin on her palm.

"Well, so yeah," Elena spoke up awkwardly, trying to remember where she had last left off before losing her train of thought after being interrupted. "Um, where was I...? Oh yeah, we should keep a low profile while conducting our investigations. This is a delicate situation, because should we be compromised, we'll like, y'know, risk blowing the whole thing sky high and stuff."

"_Eloquently _put, Laney," Reno teased sarcastically.

"Dammit, Reno! I specifically told you to stop calling me that!"

"Okay, then!" Cait Sith shouted optimistically while jumping down from the bed and throwing his skinny arms up into the air, effectively shutting the blonde Turk up before another trivial argument could eek out it's ugly head. "So, we'll be splitting up into three teams, right?"

"Correct," Madison agreed, supplementing the mechanical feline's effort to restore peace. "Rude and Reno will be paired up, Elena and I are partners, and long-hair and Reno's arch enemy can round up as the third team. Cait, since you can't rightly disguise yourself in any truly effective way, you're gonna have to stay here at home base. I'm envisioning you as the director of operations that's gonna directly receive any information from whomever gets it, where you'll then relay said information to the others via PHS. Each team will split up to different prearranged areas of Junon to find out whatever they can in the most incognito manner possible. Anything you find out, Cait's the first one to hear about it so he can inform everybody else. Savvy?"

"That's actually a good plan," Yuffie stated with candor. "By the way, don't you guys have disguises, too?"

"Don't need 'em," Elena answered. "At least, not for now. Everybody's looking for AVALANCHE, and it works so effortlessly to Zeb's advantage because he's exploiting all of your guys' widely known so-called 'foul ups' that personally hits the protesters where it hurts the most. The Turks don't figure into this. Well, not yet, at least."

"Good point," Yuffie concurred before looking over at her sharpshooting friend. While giving him a quick look-over, she thought back to how easily Reno was able to recognize Vincent whereas her own identity was better hidden from the Turk. "Can we talk about places of interest and scouting locations later, though? After spending a night in the garbage dumps of the slums, I've been dying to take a shower. C'mon Vinnie, let's unpack and stuff."

Yuffie stood and maneuvered past the two Turks by the entrance and exited from the door with Vincent in toe.

"Good thing, too, cause you both stink like week-old Chocobo carcasses sautéed in rotten, decomposing fish guts..." Reno mumbled underneath his breath before exiting the room as well, followed by Cait Sith.

Rude remained in his unchanged position, his sunglasses fixated at the two women in front of him on the other end of the room. Elena looked back at her bald compatriot and sighed while shaking her head with disappointment at Reno's expense, as did Madison.

"This can only get worse before it gets better," Madison predicted dully, her hands still buried in her pockets. "You guys feel like getting some coffee?"

With a nod from both of her cohorts, the trio finally exited the room and started for the inn's modest lounge downstairs for a hot cup of joe.

------------

A half-naked Vincent knocked on the door of his own room, skeptical at simply barging in. Yuffie had already been in there for the better part of the last ten minutes, but as languid as the little ninja was, rather than dressing up she could have spent all that time procrastinating by watching the somewhat busy street outside their window or rummaging through his bag for Materia to steal for all he knew.

"Yeah?"

"Yuffie."

"Vinnie? What're you knocking for, it's your room, too, butt-butt."

With a sigh, Vincent threw caution to the wind and entered to find Yuffie already fully dressed in her disguised attire, sprawled over her bed while lazily tossing a blue support Materia up into the air and catching it repeatedly.

"You take forever," she scoffed while continuing to toss the golf-ball-sized sphere.

"You took twice the time that I did."

"So what, you're spying on me now?"

"I did no such thing," he retorted while picking up the jeans he had left on his bed. He folded the towel, set it on the foot of the mattress, and began to clothe himself. He had already made the effort to slip into his undergarments before entering the room.

"Don't have a cow, I was only playing," she chuckled while looking over at him to stick her tongue out if he was looking. If Vincent had been looking at the time, he would have had rights to the last laugh, as Yuffie became distracted by the gunslinger's sinewy physique and allowed the tossed Materia to smack down into her right temple. "Ow."

Vincent glanced over out of curiosity while buttoning up his shirt. "What happened?"

"Nothing!" the confused teenager rapidly interposed while sitting up, her face nearly red from embarrassment. "Hurry up, Vincent, you're lagging." She stood on her feet and scurried over to her bag, trying to distract herself by clouding her thoughts. _Gawd, what's wrong with me...?_ She quickly rummaged through her carryall until she pulled out a small piece of wool cloth. "Hey, I was thinking about before..."

"Of what, precisely?" Vincent asked before turning around.

His answer came in the form of Yuffie suddenly pulling him down to her level and shoving a gray-colored beanie with decorative crimson stripes streaking around the accessory in a horizontal pattern right onto his head. Vincent snapped back to stand erect, realizing what had just happened. Silence persistent, he glared defiantly down at the little ninja, who was looking back up at him with the most innocent smile she could muster.

"It suits you! I grabbed it as an afterthought right before we left that store, thinking it would be perfect for you, Vinnie!" The gunslinger continued to stare daggers down at her, but she continued effervescently. "I was thinking back how when Reno came outta the bathroom and immediately recognized you, whereas he didn't even know who I was until Cait Sith referred to me by name. It's to hide your identity even better than before, Vincent! Ya can't argue with that. So c'mon, let's go meet up with the Turks. They're waiting for us."

No reply. Just the glare. There was a short silence before the grinning Yuffie broke off and began to walk out the door, trying her best not to giggle.

"You know, Vinnie, you're kinda cute when you're angry," she joked with a spiteful giggle before walking down the hall.

Or at least, she hoped it was a joke.

------------

Tifa sat stretched across her solitary metal bench as she contemplated the many possible scenarios for everything that was happening. Cloud didn't find out much himself while he was being briefly questioned in the next room. He was let out early with little effort because he was told by the ebony-skinned woman that she was waiting for one of her superiors, as she herself was just a representative.

The main doors opened up with a loud groan and the three prisoners shifted their gazes to the fat fellow that was approaching the cell door with a sadistic smirk, his small entourage accompanying the balding man on either side. He stopped in front of the cell door and grinned out wide, 'thrilled' for seeing two of his old 'friends.'

Tifa held her mouth ajar in utter disbelief at what her wine-colored hues were showing her. "Don Corneo?!"

* * *

**Author's note: Wow, took all day and night for this one. You can thank writer's block and laziness for that. It's 6:22am, and in a few hours I have to study, study, study... hope this holds you guys over till next week. Oh and if you haven't noticed already, the 'new' Turks I've introduced are already veterans of the black ops group. You probably never heard of them because they're exclusive characters that were introduced in the Japanese mobile phone prequel game "Before Crisis: Final Fantasy VII" as well as making cameo appearances in a short, semi-canonical anime called "Last Order: Final Fantasy VII," with Madison being the one called 'Knife.' Until next time.**


	8. One Step Closer to Setting Things Right

**Beyond Paradise II**

_Disclaimer: I do not own Yuffie, Vincent, or anything/anybody else in this fiction, they belong to Square Enix. I also don't own previously established fictitious characters such as Moira, Zeb, or Jethro. They were created by the original fan fic's author, tolerant. This is not an "official" sequel by the original author, more like a tribute by me since the original has been discontinued, unfortunately. I am not affiliated with tolerant in any way, shape, or form (other than being a fan, of course)._

**Author's note: My. GOD. I don't know about you guys, but it feels like it's been FOREVER since I've written another chapter. But holy crap, I couldn't get to sleep last Monday night and I woke up at like 2am, then for some reason I got back on my computer and spent the next hour writing story ideas for Beyond Paradise…I just kept typing and typing, the words flowing out, and before I knew it I had 2 pages of material! Unless I lose interest or am unable continue writing somehow, Beyond Paradise 2 is gonna go on for quite awhile ha. I thought up of all these complicated twists and plot tie-ins with the later installments of FF7 (which were all explained very unclearly, though still entertaining…), and I did ungodly amounts of research on the back stories of…let's just say "things" to keep it spoiler-free until the time comes ha. I even added my own creative premise to something forthcoming, too… Oh and I actually am in the process of drawing a title illustration for Beyond Paradise, something which I found fun as hell , even though my drawing is amateur-ish. It's not done yet, but I posted a link for the in-process pics at the end of this chapter.**

* * *

_Out for my own, out to be free  
One with my mind, they just can't see  
No need to hear things that they say  
Life's for my own to live my own way_

_Escape  
--James Hetfield_

**- Chapter 18: One Step Closer to Setting Things Right****  
**

"C'mon, you two!" the tiny figure of Cait Sith beckoned for the two from the open door of the female Turks' room down the hall. "Get in here, already!"

The approaching generic teenaged girl shot a glance behind her at her lagging companion, a tall, twentysomething nobody sporting long, unkempt hair stuffed underneath a beanie. The spectacled young woman readjusted her baseball cap on her way to sit at the foot of the window bed in the room occupied by the robotic feline and the business-suited men and women.

"Nice hat, Valentine," Reno snickered at such an aberrant accessory as Vincent ambled into the room. The disguised gunslinger simply sauntered past the two male Turks with out so much as a facial expression and leaned against the innermost corner by the animatronic feline, who was perched on the edge of the room's only small table while idly swinging it's legs. "Bet the brat slapped that on ya, huh?"

Remembering Vincent's words earlier, Yuffie ignored the clown and looked around at her new party of fellow crusaders, an unlikely coalition united for a campaign to eliminate a mutual foe and rescue allies lost to the struggle. She found it difficult to accept such an arrangement, a radical change to the way things were barely a week ago. The faces of her closest friends were replaced by those of her former enemies, the Turks of all people.

_This was just about the last thing I would have expected… _Yuffie thought while stretching her arms up into the air.

"Okay," Madison started as she sat back comfortably on her place on the bed opposite from Elena and Yuffie. "So now that we're all ready, we'll head off to different parts of town to try to find out whatever we can. Junon's a huge place, but the city's still undergoing heavy reconstruction from the WEAPON attack, so that narrows our options down to a few levels. There's 4 districts still open to the public, but the sectors closed off sound like good places for a group as big as Moira's organization to hide."

"Not to mention a wretched hive for perverted scum and villainy," Cait Sith added, recalling that particular piece of trivia from his internal data bank's file on Junon.

"Sounds like your field of expertise, Reno," Elena joked, awaiting some sort of characteristic retaliation.

"Actually, that would be more up Rude's alley," Reno corrected casually, surprising his blonde friend. At that, everyone turned their heads toward the bald man standing silently next to Reno, anticipating Rude to retort, but to everyone's surprise, there was no reply. "Yeah, he's got a cousin who lives around here. Last he heard, she got herself involved with a local street gang on the north corner of town. If she's still alive, she might know some useful info."

"Alright, so then you guys know where you're going," Madison said with a smile. "Should give you and your cousin time to catch up, Rude."

With that said, Rude winced slightly, but regained his composure by straightening his tie, shifting his footing and clearing his throat. His uncomfortableness was exceedingly obvious, prompting the inevitable inquiry as to the source of it.

"Rude?" Cait Sith asked curiously, it's arms folded across it's marshmallow chest.

Rude simply remained quiet, but his anxious appearance reeked of nervosity.

"They're, uh…" Reno started as he scratched his head to find the right words, sympathetic for his partner's uneasiness. "They're not on speaking terms."

"Oh…" Elena trailed off in understanding.

The blonde Turk could relate to Rude because her own older sister, Beatrice, was a bane on her existence. Despite the fact that they shared a similar ethic backed by exceptional skills, as well a mutual dedication to their work, their egos invariably clashed for as long as Elena could remember, and she despised Beatrice for outperforming her in all aspects they competed in, no matter how big or small.

"Hmm. Sorry to hear that," Yuffie chimed in of Rude half-heartedly, her mind more preoccupied with the current problems at hand.

Rude grunted in acknowledgement, feeling as tense as ever from all the stares fixated on him.

"Yeah," continued Reno indifferently, not paying attention to what he was about to say next. "He's still mad at her for always dipping his hand in warm water while he slept–"

"Er–!" Rude flinched with embarrassment and moved to grab Reno as the room burst out in laughter, visualizing big, bad Reno of the Turks constantly wetting his bed every night as a kid.

"Sorry, man!" Reno apologized, trying to inhibit a chuckle.

The fuming bald Turk paused and glanced at the teasing faces around him, his sunglasses hiding the sheepish expression in his brown eyes. Rather than exacerbating the situation, he chose to save face and calmed down.

"Well, anyways," Madison continued cheerfully, "Reno and Rude will go see Rude's cousin. Do you know which district to look in?"

"Not sure," came Rude's answer.

"Guess you'll just have to ask around," Elena suggested. "You're gonna have to check out all the closed off districts, then. They seem like the most likely places."

"No prob, we've got all day," Reno assured, still standing on the bed beside Madison, involuntarily mindful of Rude's possible reprisal.

"So far we've tried all the bars and stores on this level, and all we heard about was some suspicious-looking people hanging around a boathouse near the dry dock from the old man who runs the diner down the street. As you know, the place was empty, so Elena and I were thinking of checking the old fishing village underneath Junon. Haven't tried there yet." Madison then looked over towards Vincent and Yuffie. "As for you two, you should probably go check out–"

"Hey, since when did you get the impression that we're under your orders?" Yuffie snapped.

"Yuffie, please don't start," Cait Sith sighed while burying it's face in it's huge, cartoon-like hands.

"I'm just saying…"

"Well then, what do you suggest?" asked Reno mockingly.

"Anything's better than whatever _you_ can come up with!"

"Guys, don't argue again," Madison interrupted the squabble. "It's not going to get us anywhere. Alright, Yuffie, it's yours and Vincent's choice, but remember that we're all on the same team. As much as you probably don't want to believe it, we need you three and your skills just as much as you need us and what support we can give. With the enemy as numerous and organized as it is, we'll need all the help we can get."

"So from here on out, the Turks and AVALANCHE are working together!" Cait Sith added, unofficially making it official. "We'll help them out with whatever they need just the same as they'll help us with who we're looking for, okay? It's a trade-off we have to keep, and if it's an issue of trust, lass, you can rest assured that they have things at stake, as well. They're not going to betray us."

"Okay, okay," Yuffie conceded. "…So where do me and Vincent go?"

"There's a choice between the 2 upper levels or the one below this one," replied Madison. "It's gonna take awhile to search each district, so maybe in one day's time you can knock out the whole block, depending on what you may or may not find."

"Hmm… we should pay attention to the weapon shops. Maybe these guys have been buying guns and stuff. The store owners might tell us what's been happening."

"Good idea," Elena said with an impressed nod. "Everyone visit any weapon shops you pass by on your way and see what you can find out."

"Okay good," Madison continued, "So keep your wits about you and try not to draw any attention to yourselves. When you're asking people about things, remember to keep it as unspecific as you can, as you never know who may or may not be affiliated with these anti-AVALANCHE guys. Anything you find out, call Cait Sith to phone in the results. Savvy?"

Nods of agreement sent them all on their way. As they made their way to the stairs, Cait Sith caught up with and stopped his two fellow AVALANCHE members so he could provide them with a spare PHS he managed to get his hands on. With an expression of gratitude and a farewell to the feline, Yuffie descended the wooden stairs with Vincent in toe and they exited the building out into the city. The high noon sun shone down brightly onto the metropolitan expanse below, a striking dissimilarity to the eternally overcast skies of Midgar from the day before.

The two left their weapons back at their room, as well as the equipment required to slot their Materia for proper use. Yuffie felt somewhat naked without her trusted Conformer and throngs of Materia – not to mention the discomfort she endured due to the characteristically tight feminine clothing she was forced to wear – but with the situation as delicate as it was, there was no other option.

"Did you at least bring that pistol of yours?" asked Yuffie.

"Hmph," Vincent grunted lightly while he shook his head, his hands nested in his pockets to hide his claw as they strolled down the concrete sidewalk of the avenue, nearly empty despite the rush hour that would normally be occurring in a township of this size.

"Well, at least you got that claw," she remarked while playfully knocking on his forearm, the gold appendage hidden underneath his long black sleeve giving her tapping a slight, muffled metallic sound. The two meandered side by side down the newly cemented pavement at an easy pace, making their way towards the newly established gondolas they had seen advertised on local billboards that would take them up to the higher levels. "Anyways, if worst comes to worst, I can always save your sorry butt with my ninja skills."

------------

The two female Turks entered the steel lift, the structure that would take them all the way down to the simple fishing village below. As they watched the sun above them shrink into a distant light during their descent to the darker area below, Madison decided to get to know her younger compatriot a little better by initiating casual small talk, something that was going pretty well earlier that morning on their investigation into the boathouse.

"So, where should we start first?" the taller, raven-haired woman asked jauntily. At 5'10", Madison had to look down somewhat to lock eyes with her younger blonde partner. "Any ideas?"

"Well, the village below isn't that big. Last I heard, there's no inn or public hall or anything like that. Maybe our best bet is to just walk around and go door to door, asking people about what they know or of anything they've seen."

The elevator slowly came to a stop at a middle corner of the settlement, perpetually dimmed for the latter part of the day due to the massive metropolis above greedily engrossing most of the afternoon sun's rays, and the two female Turks stepped off the platform. A mere shadow of it's former self, the humble hamlet the two women set foot into was the original Junon, once a peaceful fishing village untouched by pollution, both noise and Mako-related.

With the Junon of today having been constructed decades before over the small community by none other than the now-defunct ShinRa Electrical Power Company for the area's supposed 'excellent strategic location,' the still-living residents of the sleepy little village old enough to remember the Junon of old harbored an intense hatred for all things ShinRa – Turks included – and have instilled this abhorrent sentimentality for the former conglomerate's unforgivable defilement in both their children and their children's children for future generations to come.

As Madison and Elena stepped into the town limits, a simple collection of semi-Tudor-like houses and huts sprawled across a cobblestone roadway parallel to the sandy beach and it's endless blue ocean below, they were greeted with a suspicious glower from a passing rurally-dressed elderly man pushing an empty wooden cart towards the house closest to the tunnel opening against the large cliff face to their right.

"Hmph…" Elena sighed while watching the feeble-looking old man disappear from view. "Maybe we should have asked Yuffie and Vincent to investigate down here, instead."

Noticing a small child staring at them through the window of the two-story abode, Madison managed to give a timid, friendly smile, only to meet rejection as the child retreated out of sight, the flap of the white curtain she was holding open falling back into place. The taller woman's smile steadily faltered into a defeated frown as she turned to her companion.

"I don't think it would have made much difference, anyways," Madison said. "You know what? In fact, I think it's actually better that we came down here instead."

"How so?"

"Well, I mean think about it. Yuffie and Vincent look like out-of-towners, and who in their right mind would wander into such a small, out-of-the-way village like this on their _vacation_? It would probably just raise even more suspicion than our own presence here."

"Yeah, you're right. At least our reason for being here could be explained as an official investigation by–"

Madison immediately shot her hand over Elena's mouth before she could mention the former company they worked for by name. Madison had been aware from the stories she had heard from Reno of Elena's tendency to inadvertently give important details away that were supposed to be kept a secret without realizing it.

"Don't mention the company!" Madison chided her younger companion in a hoarse whisper. "I've heard these people despise the company for building Junon on top of their village."

She let go of Elena's face, her anger at such an abrupt maneuver disappearing as she understood.

"So then how do we explain the suits?"

"We could always lie and say we work for someone else, right? The Investigation Sector was an undercover black ops agency. I'm hoping at least most of everybody we'll meet won't have any knowledge of us."

"Okay, but who do we say we work for then?"

"That's the thing, I don't know."

"Well, we'll figure something out."

The two made their way to the first house, a building across the stone pathway from next door to the dwelling where the little girl was peering at them through the window.

"We could probably use the ShinRa thing to our advantage, too," Madison suggested lowly as they stopped at the doorstep of the home with the large shark-like skeleton hanging from a gallows on the building's front yard. "If luck is on our side and my hunch is correct, these guys either don't care or haven't heard of AVALANCHE, or hell, they may even have supported them for fighting so passionately against ShinRa. They may not be part of this anti-AVALANCHE group, and hopefully they haven't heard of them, either. We could probably say these 'suspicious-looking guys' we're on the hunt for are actually ex-ShinRas trying to reestablish the company."

"Hey, that gives me an idea! We could just say we're part of a new organization formed to hunt down and arrest all 'Neo-ShinRas' around the Planet?"

"My thoughts, exactly," Madison beamed with an agreeing nod.

"Great minds think alike," Elena remarked before moving her hand to knock on the wooden frame of the door, but paused to turn her head to Madison for an afterthought. "If this works, we could probably use it for the whole investigation."

"Let's call Cait Sith and Reno after we're done here and ask them what they think about our idea."

"Alright," Elena nodded in concurrence and knocked on the door.

The two stood silently with their hands rested, one over the other, underneath the front of their waists in a professional manner, adopting the mannerism Rude utilized. There was some creaking as someone moved upstairs, implying that it would take some time for the door to open, if the occupant within chose to do so.

"Hmm," the raven-haired Turk started, "If we happen to say that to an anti-AVALANCHE supporter, they might try to defend their organization and try to correct us. If they're that stupid, we could capture and interrogate them for everything they know."

"Hopefully they won't spread the word after we're done questioning them... Did we bring any of that special chloroform that induces amnesia?"

"Tons."

"Great," Elena said with a chuckle as they heard the dragging footsteps of someone slowly shuffling towards the door from within, probably from an older person.

"If this works, we can probably see if Vincent and Yuffie will wear Turks uniforms for the investigation. We can figure out if that would be better or not later when we have more time to think."

After a short pause, Elena winced at the idea, realizing that her clothing size would be the only one that could properly fit the Wutaian princess.

"No way!" she countered defiantly in a controlled whisper. "Yuffie's not going to wear any of my–!" The door opened and Elena instantaneously changed into an authoritative monotone. "Good afternoon, ma'am. We were wondering if we could have a moment of your time."

------------

Vincent and Yuffie entered the small weapons shop, the bell on the door ringing quietly from the tiny bell installed above it. The tiny foyer that was for customers to walk in was somewhat stifling, going no more than a few yards in any direction from the entrance. Every single inch of the store's walls was lined with a wide array of blades and firearms of all sorts, qualities, shapes, and sizes. In front of the walls was a line of impassable glass counters that traced the length of the room in a square pattern. Even more armaments were displayed within the counters, each having their own price tags attached.

"I've never seen a shop with so many cool weapons before!" Yuffie exclaimed while gawping in wonder at such a sight. The two moved to the middle of the shop, eyeing the various tools and devices of destruction. A typical weaponry store would either have a noticeably smaller collection of goods or have their items already sold off to whoever was buying. "There's enough guns in here for an army! Guess we came to the right place, huh?"

It was awhile before the couple noticed that they were alone in the store, devoid of any employees or even other customers at present. Soon after, a flush was heard from the back room and a portly middle-aged man wearing blue suspenders and sporting a painfully obvious comb-over entered the shop front from behind the counter, hitching the folds of his waist. He heaved a relieved sigh before he looked up and an expression of astonishment streaked across his face, clearly surprised at the young man and female teenager's presence in the store.

"Oh! Er, umm…" the man stumbled over his words as if he had not seen another person for weeks. "W-welcome! How may I be of service to you?"

Maintaining a cover by establishing a proper motive for entering the store, Yuffie acted quickly while stepping up to the counter and eyeing the merchandise underneath the glass.

"We were walking back to our hotel and we saw this place and thought it would be cool to check out," she improvised as she shifted her gaze from the small arms within the counter up towards the larger weapons on the wall behind the shopkeeper. "You've got a lotta cool stuff here, mister!"

"Yup, finest quality weaponry this side of Junon," the man chuckled, though almost half-heartedly. In truth, he honestly did not care whether they bought anything or not. "It's just a shame that business has been at such a standstill lately."

"Really?" Yuffie asked, seeing this as her chance to inconspicuously milk the man for any useful information. "What do you mean?"

"Well," the shopkeeper sighed while looking around his almost over-stocked shop with a faintly depressed look crossed on his face. "The economy here in Junon has been pretty much destroyed ever since the WEAPON attack all those months ago. So many people were killed by WEAPON and the crossfire from ShinRa's retaliation that business has taken a financial turn for the worse for everybody in town, due to the lack of customers from the deaths. I remember before those attacks… it was as if everybody and their mothers were purchasing my goods.

"I even remember selling things to some kids that I later read about in the paper were part of local gangs who used my own guns for crime," he continued. "I condemned that for happening, but with the way things are now, I would rather have had those customers than no customers at all. But it no longer matters. I've already sold the lease to my building and I've just used the Gil to buy a property over in Kalm. I'll be moving there by the end of the week, this Sunday."

"Kalm, that's a good place," Yuffie stated optimistically for the shopkeeper's sake. "It's kind of close to old Midgar, which is still teeming with all those wild monsters and ShinRa experiments run amok, so I imagine you'll find like, consistent business over there."

"Well, here's to hoping you're correct," the middle-aged man said while pulling out a flask from his front pocket and taking a quick swig of the alcoholic liquid. Yuffie laughed as he put back his flask with a smile. "That's why I'm getting out of here, I just can't wait for things to pick up again. You can't replace living, breathing people as easily as you can steel and asphalt, you know?"

"Yeah, huh. Well, I wish you luck with everything."

"Aww thanks, little lady, I really appreciate that," the man nodded with a smile, glancing towards Vincent, who was preoccupying himself by visually browsing the merchandise from the middle of the room. Only his left hand was nestled in his pocket, presumably to reinforce that he was not stealing anything while maintaining the common habit of resting his hand in his jeans' side compartment. In fact, it was actually to hide the golden appendage, but the clerk did not need to know that. "So where are you two from, what brings you two to Junon?"

Thinking quickly, Yuffie began to extemporize her and Vincent's cover story, a surprisingly convincing alibi that was about to impress the disguised gunslinger, who would hide his amazement by refraining from any reactions to her words whatsoever.

"Name's Sophie, and Mr. Dark and Serious over there's my big brother, Victor. We came down from Rocket Town to visit our aunt over in Kalm and deliver her a package that our parents were too lazy to ship themselves. Why they can't trust the mail, I'll never know. So now we're heading back with the season coming to a close, which SUCKS, by the way. We've got a couple of days left, so we're spending the last leg of our vacation here in Junon."

"Here in Junon? Not Costa del Sol?"

Yuffie hesitated, but tried her best not to visibly reveal it. She was at a loss at how to answer.

_Come on, Yuffie… think-think-think-think-think…_

"Our parents and the rest of the family are currently residing at Costa del Sol, awaiting our return," Yuffie couldn't help but shoot an uncharacteristic look of astonishment as Vincent spoke, something that a baby sister coming home from a casual trip from Kalm would not typically do of her brother. Luckily, the clerk did not notice as his gaze switched towards the marksman once he spoke up. "To put it quite frankly, we find our extended family quite intolerable."

"Ahh…" the man laughed lightly. "Hiding out here in Junon, I see!"

His chuckle escalated into a jolly chortle, causing Yuffie to let out a giggle, but for a different reason entirely. Chocolate hues locked with scarlet orbs as 'Sophie' gave 'Victor' a sincere mien of gratitude.

"Yeah, guilty as charged," Yuffie chuckled nervously.

"Don't worry, your secret's safe with me!" he reassured them cheerfully. "If you two need anything, I'll be just over there sorting out a few things."

"Thanks," Yuffie smiled before losing herself through the glass beneath her elbows.

_He's such a nice, old fart… _Yuffie thought to herself. _I feel kinda bad for lying to him… huh? Wait, wait, wait, that doesn't sound like me. Grr! Goddammit, Tifa! _

The little ninja was shocked at her uncharacteristic notion, remembering her past exploits when she would indiscriminately swindle random travelers around the forests of Wutai out of their Materia, Gil, and equipment with such ease, effectively ignoring her conscience and morals. Now they seemed to have returned with a vengeance as evidenced by the guilt she felt for lying to this warm-hearted man and the remorse she remembered undergoing for the young rebel that had been surrounded with her back in Midgar before they all fell down into the Slums. This was contradictory to her past selfishness, indulging in the idea that life revolved around Yuffie and that she should only look out for nobody else but herself.

Yuffie's inner monologue was interrupted when she heard the shopkeeper call out to Vincent, who had seemingly been observing a weapon the entire time due to what the clerk said next. "Ah, I see you eyeing the Cerberus."

"'Cerberus,' huh?" Vincent inquired with genuine interest as he examined the superb, intricately-designed revolver resting in its velvet-laced half-case inside the middle of the illuminated counter.

The firearm was ornamented with swirling patterns that blended symmetrically alongside depictions of a canine's head on each barrel, and had a short platinum chain sporting the symbol of a three-headed dog with a wing dangling off the bottom of the pistol grip. The revolver was truly huge, with the length of the weapon being comparable to the size of a sawn-off shotgun, or perhaps to the length of one's knee running down to the ankle.

"That's right, the Cerberus. A triple-barreled, semi-automatic handgun with extremely lethal tendencies. It's fires three shots simultaneously, one from each barrel, with every trigger pull. Standard magazines allow six shots per load, yielding a total delivery of eighteen high-powered slugs, though I've heard rumors that there's larger ones that hold more ammo some where out there. You just got to find them."

He unlocked and opened up the white sliding case door on the rear of the glass counter and carefully pulled out the weapon, breaking open the loading chamber to further show off his magnificent firearm.

"It reloads similarly to a double-barreled shotgun," he continued, apparently proud for having such a revolver in his possession. "With the ammunition cylinder being loaded into the back of the barrel once you break it open, as you can plainly see here. It's deathly accurate and doesn't scatter, so it's just perfect for close to mid-range marksmanship, though at longer ranges it still retains some of it's power. Heck, if you're one of those fellas that use a long arm for distance shooting and a pistol for CQB, having this baby would eliminate the requirement for both those cumbersome things cause it's practically two guns rolled into one, basically. And if that wasn't enough, it's got slots for Materia so you can cast spells right from your gun… beautiful. Just beautiful."

He seemed lost in a trance-like state as he looked down upon the elegant weapon he caressed in his hands. He looked up to see the two siblings giving him a funny, awkward look, and a bead of sweat immediately formed on the shopkeeper's forehead as he realized what had happened.

"Oh, please accept my apologies!" he begged, his voice rife with the humiliation he felt, as he quickly bowed to the duo. "I'm afraid I just got, uh, carried away." He chuckled nervously while scratching the back of his head with his free hand.

"You must…_ really_ love that gun," Yuffie stated, stifling a giggle.

The man chuckled. "Yes, I'm sure it's obvious that I've developed quite a fondness for this piece of technological superiority. My father was able to salvage it from a deceased ShinRa operative over two decades ago and immediately put it on display at this shop for sale. I've been fascinated with it ever since, researching everything I could about it. It's just that, I never really get many opportunities to talk about it… I apologize again," he said again with another bow.

"It's okay, stop fussing!" Yuffie reassured playfully. "Wow, you never sold that thing?"

"Surprisingly, no!" he revealed as he put back the gun down into it's case. "For as long as I can remember, most of my customers just opted for such an ignorant view of firearms, that 'the bigger and more powerful a gun is, the better.' A gun's size, the amount of bullets it can hold and it's penetration capabilities don't matter as much as the skill of the person who uses it. Nowadays, people would rather buy fully automatic rifles and relegate to the 'spray-and-pray' method of firing a gun, rather than the almost dead art of sharpshooting with a proper, accurate weapon… just like those young men that purchased a set of automatic rifles from me the other day. Pathetic, if you ask me. They didn't even know what they were looking for or anything! They just waltzed right up to the counter and demanded of me like ignorant fools, and I quote... 'give us twelve of the biggest, baddest machineguns you got.'"

Yuffie couldn't help but brighten as she heard the bit of news. "Really? Who are these guys, do you know where they went?"

"Huh?" he asked, not understanding where this sudden enthusiasm for finding out the identity of firearms-purchasing strangers from days before came from.

"Oh, um…"

"...We believe they may be friends of ours," Vincent answered for her. "We've been looking for them, as they lack a phone for us to reach them. If you could please help us out with any information you can provide, we would greatly appreciate it."

"Oh yes, I understand. I specifically remember overhearing them talk about a warehouse, getting to the warehouse. Luckily, there aren't that many warehouses here in Junon, though I'm afraid it's not in my knowledge to tell you the precise or even general locations of these buildings. That's all I can recall, I'm sorry for not being of better help."

"That's okay!" Yuffie said with a nod.

She looked up into the crimson eyes of her long-haired companion and grinned enthusiastically, an authentic happiness that Vincent had not seen in the young princess since before the comas and kidnappings befell their friends. To the marksman, Yuffie seemed to be communicating something along the lines of expressing a delight in finding traces of a lost optimism, beginning to regain hope for a better future, and accepting the possibility that they may be able to rescue their friends after all. Likewise, for Vincent, it meant one less vile sin he would have to apprehend himself to death with.

"Thanks for the help, mister!" Yuffie called out to the shopkeeper as she ushered Vincent out the door. With a wave from both parties, the duo exited the shop and stepped out into the street once more. "Hmm..."

The fresh sea air, combined with the near emptiness of the avenue around them, established a peaceful ambiance for the two members of AVALANCHE. The relative silence of the city allowed for the placid sound of roaring waves to reach all the way up to the district the duo were in, despite the massive height difference from the street and the water level below. Yuffie stared into the shining, eternal blue ocean before them as Vincent stepped up beside her, the comforting breeze blowing their hatted hair just slightly enough for the ends to dance in the wind, Vincent's more than Yuffie's. While the sun's rays cast a tranquil glow that radiated to all parts of the urban city of Junon, Yuffie forgot all of her troubles for a few split seconds as she turned to the gunslinger beside her.

He didn't seem to notice her gentle gaze upon him and kept his stoic, straightforward stare at the midsummer skies above. She noticed his expression was lighter than the usual pained countenance that dominated his demeanor most of the time – that melancholy look that hinted at a forlorn sorrow of bygone anxieties unresolved – a particularly rare manifestation of an occurrence that the little ninja came to accept through these past couple of weeks of getting close to him as his subtle way of smiling at the few moments in his life that he must have considered joyful.

Though she would probably never admit it, she felt a great happiness in her stomach for the enigmatic man that had willfully stood by her side and watched over her intently since they were first partnered up by Cloud._ Ha, all this over a stupid gun…_

Unbeknownst to Yuffie, the ex-Turk felt the way he did for a different reason entirely. The serenity of the scene had triggered a much more sentimental sensation stemming from what he had originally believed had become a long-since dead emotion.

* * *

**Author's note: Wow, sorry I've only been able to do 1 chapter this week. ****This is by far the furthest I have ever gone with any of my stories, I just feel like it has to be told.**** I'm currently working on concept artwork for BP, and they're turning out... adequate.  
**


	9. Norté Magus, Incorporated

**Beyond Paradise II****  
**

_Disclaimer: I do not own Yuffie, Vincent, or anything/anybody else in this fiction, they belong to Square Enix. I also don't own previously established fictitious characters such as Moira, Zeb, or Jethro. They were created by the original fan fic's author, tolerant. This is not an "official" sequel by the original author, more like a tribute by me since the original has been discontinued, unfortunately. I am not affiliated with tolerant in any way, shape, or form (other than being a fan, of course)._

**Author's note: YES! Finally back on the computer after all this time, felt like forever. I know it sounds sad, but after every crappy week that passes by, being able to sit down and write up another chapter to my favorite story to date more than makes up for it. Too bad I have another test this Monday, and I have to study my ass off once again. Grr…oh well, tonight and tomorrow after I take my nieces costume shopping will be my BP time :P **

* * *

_Good day, how do?  
And I send a smile to you  
Don't waste, waste your breath  
And I won't waste my hate on you_

_Wasting My Hate  
--James Hetfield_

**- Chapter 19: Norté Magus, Incorporated  
**

The transport truck ground to a halt in front of the loading bay, the inlet hidden away within the many back alleys of Junon. The driver and passenger disembarked and made their way to the rear of the vehicle as the metallic door on the dock slowly opened up. Zeb rushed out alongside a pair of armed escorts, looking anxious for the contents of the truck to be loaded out. Two large dollies rolled out from the building and stopped at the back of the truck. The driver and passenger climbed into the back of the vehicle while the dolly raised it's platform up to level with the truck.

Zeb took a deep breath as a large, flat tank was rolled out and secured onto the dolly. The glass roof of it was glowing green. He quickly moved to the side of the tube and placed his hands over the glass, smiling as he looked down into the lifeless face of a young brown-haired woman resting in the Mako-filled preservation tank.

"Soon..." Zeb spoke softly to the corpse of his wife, holding back tears. "Very soon, I promise..."

The two guards that accompanied the rebel leader quickly traded a disturbed look at the white-haired man's insane actions as the second tank containing the body of his adolescent daughter was rolled out. Overhead, a small, blue-haired girl in a green and white jester outfit smiled down sadistically on the scene before she simply disappeared as quickly as she had set herself there.

--

The setting sun sagging from the orange skies above began to disappear from sight through the narrow openings in the roof of the skeletal iron structure the suited duo marched under. It would be evening soon, a fact that failed to deter the two Turks from continuing their investigation as they took down the alleyway in stride. The few rays of amber light peaking down from the still-under-construction metallic beams overhead were few and far between, finally vanishing before a darkened open doorway at the end of the alley that beckoned the two men to move further on into who knows where.

"I've got a bad feeling about this, yo." Reno stated rather blithely, despite such a foreboding observation. He looked up to his taller bald partner, who subsequently raised his trademark sunglasses, allowing the lenses to rest on his forehead so he could better see through the duskiness of their surroundings. "That cut on your lip's healed nicely."

Just a few hours earlier, Reno and Rude got themselves entangled in a scuffle with a group of ornery street punks that were shooting dice on a secluded corner of one of the off-limits sections of the city. The two Turks approached the four twentysomething urchins with neutral intentions, simply seeking any useful information that may pertain to the whereabouts of Rude's cousin or her gang, but as soon as they were mentioned, the young hoodlums--already wound up enough from the two suited men's unwelcome presence--lost any control they had and furiously attacked the duo, only to be beaten down into submission by devastating swings from Rude's fists and intense, high-voltage shocks from Reno's standard-issue Electro-Mag Rod.

When all was said and done, the writhing miscreants were impatiently interrogated and it was revealed that they mistook the two as affiliates of their rival gang, NMI. Judging by such an abrupt and violent reaction to the mere mention of the name belonging to Rude's cousin, Questa, the two Turks speculated that she must have made quite a name of herself in the underground society of Junon.

Back in the present, the brawny Turk remained his gaze in surveying the doorway, making sure there was nothing suspicious about it.

"Come on, let's check it out." Reno said as he took out his flashlight and started for the door. "They said the hideout's down here."

"We're probably not going to get such a warm welcome from them, either." Rude theorized as he followed after his red-haired companion, switching on his flashlight as well.

"When has that ever stopped us? Besides, if worst comes to worst, your cousin can always call things off, right?"

"Reno, I already told you, she and I aren't on very good terms."

"Aww come on, just cause of that bed wetting thing?"

"Urgh…" Rude groaned in annoyance as he trekked down the pitch black hallway alongside Reno, remembering the uncomfortable awkwardness back at the inn. "It's not just that."

"What, the whole mud thing?" Reno continued, not noticing that he was perturbing his partner with every humiliating memory he brought up. "Or when she drew on your face while you were asleep to make your eyes look like boobs? Or the time she made you wear that dress? Or the time you had to--"

"Reno!!"

The skinny Turk cringed as Rude interjected, finally realizing his unconscious reminiscence at the bald man's expense. "Heh, sorry."

"Yeah, yeah." Rude sighed while peaking out a window. It seemed to lead to the inner courtyard of the unfinished building. "Let's check this place out."

"Whatever you say, partner." Reno agreed casually while following after Rude into the small outdoor square, a cobblestone-decorated enclosure lined with impermanent torch lamps for steady illumination.

The sky cast a dim auburn glow, signifying that nightfall was fast approaching.

"Think this is the place?"

"Sure looks like it, yo."

"What do we do?" Rude asked while crossing his arms, his flashlight now holstered back onto it's leather strap hidden underneath the lapel of his uniform.

"I don't know. Wanna just shout out for NMI and see what happens?"

"…Why don't we just sneak around a bit more?" Rude suggested while making his way towards another doorway.

Characteristically quiet by nature, the at present surprisingly loquacious Rude was only more verbally expressive than usual this time around because he was alone with his long-time friend Reno. A general misconception, Rude's inaudible tendencies towards others and in public stems only partially from a desire to remain professional and intimidating.

Years ago during the drawn-out war between old ShinRa and the original AVALANCHE eco-terrorist organization led by Elfé, Rude became infatuated with a young woman named Chelsea. Unfortunately, she was an AVALANCHE spy who got herself emotionally entangled with Rude, but was forced to leave him after a month of seeing each other, reluctantly believing that enemies could not be together. Rude did not take well to her departure, since he could not even say goodbye to her. Since then, he has been rather shy and introversive, refusing to develop any close relationships, aside from his friendship with Reno.

"Looks like someone's in there." Reno whispered while pressing his back on the left side of the doorway, the room inside clearly illuminated as advertised by the large window beside Rude.

He looked over to Rude, who was positioned opposite of him, his right shoulder pressed against the wall. With a nod of acknowledgement from the impassive Turk, Reno slowly opened the door outwards from his side and peaked into his field of vision, finding himself observing an empty, well-lit hallway. He slowly opened the door further, allowing Rude to take the knob and fully opening the entrance so Rude could peer in through his side to inspect things.

He saw nothing but a wall from where he was standing so the duo cautiously entered the building, sneaking down the short, Victorian-style corridor and stopping at the end with two doors before them. Reno took out a snaking device and pushed the wire under the wooden door while Rude peered into the second ingress.

Observing the tiny room, Rude saw a trio of men seated casually on a couch, watching some sort of action movie on the big-screen television in front of them with their backs facing the Turks. They all seemed to be dressed in blue clothing, probably their gang colors if they turned out to be with NMI. He turned to look down at the kneeling Reno, holding out three fingers on his right hand to signal the number of people he had observed. His red-headed colleague used a short series of hand gestures to silently inform his taller companion that there was one sleeping man in the room he used the gadget to survey. Suddenly, a roar of surprised exclamation erupted from the chamber with the television set, followed by a fit of ribald laughter.

"Oh my god!" the young bearded one on the far end called out, still breathless from witnessing such a hysterically sidesplitting scene from the film.

"I can't believe he said that!" the spiky-haired middle one added of the same hilarious scene in-between his gurgles of cachinnation. "Oh man, I pissed my pants!"

"What's so funny?" hypothetically inquired a sly voice behind them before their collected guffawing could completely settle down.

"…Who the fuck are you?!" demanded the middle one as he shot up angrily, hesitating before attempting to dart towards the lead pipes and baseball bats set on the kitchen table.

"Ah-ah-ah…" Reno dissuaded the spiky-haired teenager while pulling out his rod weapon, a threatening flicker of electricity discharging from the tip which caused a few sparks to fly out in front of him. "I wouldn't do that if I were you."

The teen's two companions remained frozen where they stood as they glared at the two intruders, assessing the situation.

"You're not welcome here." the third kid stipulated authoritatively with a stern look on his pudgy face. He was clad in shorts and an undershirt, attire that implied he probably lived in the structure. "Get. Out."

Judging by the informal house apparel worn by the three people before them, they appeared as if they called this modest piece of construction their home. Reno and Rude would not be surprised to find out if the buildings surrounding the courtyard housed the entire gang of NMI members.

"Oooh, I'm shaking." the red-haired Turk beamed, a rife tone of sarcasm accompanying his mischievous smile. He turned to his tacit companion, who was standing silently beside him with his arms folded across his chest. "What do you think, buddy?"

The man studded with an array of silver ear piercings merely cracked his knuckles, clearly revealing his intentions. His trademark shades were replaced back over his chestnut-brown eyes before he entered the room, giving him a more menacing look that supplemented his muscular physique.

"You're both fools," the spiky-haired one spat. "You're right at the heart of our turf, smack dab in the middle of the NMI headquarters, for cryin' out loud. You harm us and you'll never make it outta here alive."

"Oh, do I detect a hint of fear in that quavering voice of yours?" Reno quipped while slowly spinning his rod through his fingers. "Or are you suggesting that we take you hostage and use you as leverage to get to Questa?"

Already long aware of the creak from the door in the hallway to their rear, the two Turks didn't even bother to stray their gaze from the trio as a loud burst of electricity crackled behind them. A man collapsed into the room everyone was in, squirming in pain from the massive electrical stun released by the wall-mounted proximity mine Reno had placed earlier in the event that the sleeping man would awaken to attempt to sneak up on the two Turks. The young man groaned in agony, a noisy ruckus that would most likely alert the whole gang's base, if it had not done so already.

"Shut up." Reno snapped before kicking the guy behind him without turning around, a heel to the face that effectively hushed the whining gang member. "So, where's Questa?"

"None of your business, suit monkey." the third young man lashed out.

"Now, now, no need to get harsh. We're just here to speak with her."

"Over our dead bodies!" retorted the third man, a steadfastness that broadcasted a fiercely loyal recalcitrance.

"Calm down, yo. No need for such rashness. We're all smart adults here, we can work something out that doesn't involve us handing you your asses."

"Lanky little prick…" the bearded one mumbled with angry eyes.

"Jeez, looks like we can't get through to you NMI guys with just words…" Reno sighed while vaunting his prod in a bullying manner. "Tell me, what does 'NMI' stand for, anyway?"

"Norté Magus, Incorporated." the spiky-haired one replied with pride in his voice.

"Norté Magus, Incorporated? I like that, it's got such a nice ring to it." Reno said in a somewhat mocking manner. "Such an imaginative name."

"For good reason…"

Before the two Turks knew it, they found themselves blinded from a bright flare of white light. A sharp sting racked Reno's gut as what felt like a red-hot coffee pot full of heavy stones smashed into his navel, causing him to lean forward. He fell back as a knee uppercut his chin. Rude landed beside him while rubbing his eyes. His vision slowly reattached itself and he saw the trio standing in front of them, the bearded one moving to help up the one who had been shocked earlier.

Rude looked over at Reno, who was still blinded and groaning in frustration as he slowly lifted himself up using the wall behind him. Due to the sunglasses he was wearing absorbing much of the flash, Rude's sight returned quicker than his partner's, and he shot up to his feet while growling in frustration. He noticed the spiky-haired thug's fists were completely ablaze, the dancing flames not bothering the young man in the least. Smelling something cooking, Rude looked beside him at the now standing Reno and realized the cloth over his stomach was burning lightly.

"Reno, you're on fire." Rude informed his still-blinded companion as he began to pat out the tiny patches of fire with his gloved hands.

"Bastards!" grumbled Reno, his eyes now nearly fully recovered. Observing the four adversaries before them, he realized something he failed to spot before it all started. The four were all wearing gloves dotted with little green orbs. "Materia… well, that explains the 'Magus' in 'Norté Magus, Incorporated.'"

The duo regained their composure and shifted into their fighting stances, preparing themselves for the next round. Just then, rumbling throughout the building gripped the air around them, followed soon after by a sight that discouraged the suited intruders. Several men and women rushed down the staircase behind the four gangsters and stepped up beside them, bolstering the enemy numbers to hopeless odds in the NMI's favor.

_Shit…_ Rude thought pessimistically, contrasting with the stalwart expression he maintained on his face.

Reno held a similar demeanor, though his was a mix of irritation, nervousness, and determination. Both breathing heavily from the many emotions they felt that coursed them due to the situation at hand, the two outnumbered friends turned their heads to look at each other for what felt like an eternity before finally trading a smile that obviously communicated a mutual consent of throwing caution to the wind. They turned back to their foes and beckoned them over in a taunting manner to attack first. Accepting the challenge, two of them ran forward to assault the couple of ex-ShinRas while screaming at the top of their lungs.

The large window shattered into pieces as the bodies of the two gang members crashed through and slumped to a painful halt on the courtyard's asphalt blacktop. Immediately, the two Turks leaped through the window themselves and rolled gracefully to soften their landing before shooting back up and walking briskly towards their two victims, who were just beginning to wobbly get back on their feet, and proceeded to finish them off with knockout blows. The last thing the two dazed gang members saw was an arc of lightning swinging downwards from a red-colored cloud and a growing set of leather-clad knuckles rapidly charging forthwith like a runaway locomotive before everything faded to black.

Finally realizing the blaring alarm that had already been echoing into the night for the past ten or so seconds, Reno and Rude looked behind them to see some from the group within the building commencing to clamber over the window frame while the rest darted out the front doorway. The Turks then stood back to back as they looked all around them to suddenly see dozens of thug-looking men and women arrayed in street attire prominently leaning towards the blue spectrum pour out from every egress and staircase the two-story courtyard had to offer. Effectively surrounded by the many members of the Materia-inclined Norté Magus, Inc., the hopelessly encircled duo shifted their eyes to the numerous faces around them.

"This looks like it could be fun... how ya feelin', buddy?" Reno asked his taller compatriot while he continued to survey the stringently tight location.

Rude took note of how the the gangsters were organizing themselves into a first wave to take on the trespassers that had simply marched into their headquarters, although whether this act was to give the two men a fair chance at defending themselves or to simply toy with their suited interlopers was beyond them.

His eyebrows knitted together in a defiant glare, the resolute bald man behind Reno slowly looked up into the newly dusked sky, the white stars overhead only starting to fade into view across the lapis lazuli heavens above. With the area around them basked in an ivory glow emanating from the abundant amount of decorative torch lamps lined all over the walls of the now-filled courtyard they stood alone in the middle of, Rude took off his sunglasses for better vision and pocketed them under the lapel of his jacket.

"I feel like kickin' some ass." the normally reserved Rude gibed rather impishly before looking back to lock eyes with his comrade, batting a rare smirk that seldom crossed his lips.

"Let's do this, yo." Reno agreed with a light chuckle.

Their indomitably playful miens receded into an exterior appearance of pure determination as they turned away from each other and faced their mobilizing opponents, prompting Rude to readjust his gloves from the wrist and Reno to briefly brandish his electrified nightstick with a static crackle. The duo finally prepared themselves for the imminent melee both physically and mentally just as the first wave of attackers stampeded towards the pair of battle-hardened Turks.

* * *

**Author's note: I'm so tired...but I still have to study all day tomorrow for two tests I'm not even ready for.**


	10. All Nightmare Long

**Beyond Paradise II**

_Disclaimer: I do not own Yuffie, Vincent, or anything/anybody else in this fiction, they belong to Square Enix. I also don't own previously established fictitious characters such as Moira, Zeb, or Jethro. They were created by the original fan fic's author, tolerant. This is not an "official" sequel by the original author, more like a tribute by me since the original has been discontinued, unfortunately. I am not affiliated with tolerant in any way, shape, or form (other than being a fan, of course)._

**Author's note: My 10****th**** Chapter! Also meaning the 20****th**** overall chapter for the epic Beyond Paradise saga! Rejoice! :P**

* * *

_The light that is not light is here  
To flush you out with your own fear  
You hide, you hide, but will be found  
Release your grip without a sound  
__'Cause we hunt you down without mercy  
Hunt you down all nightmare long  
Feel us breath upon your face  
Feel us shift, every move we trace  
_

_All Nightmare Long  
--James Hetfield  
_

**- Chapter 20: All Nightmare Long**

"How'd you guys fair?" Madison asked the disguised Vincent and Yuffie as they approached her, Elena, and Cait Sith on the collection of simple couches in their inn's lobby.

The modest foyer was empty save for the pair of Turks, the trio of AVALANCHE members, and the middle-aged woman seated behind the reception desk writing something on a piece of paper. The couches were arranged in a semi-circle in front of a small, cozy brick fireplace, an unusually high-class choice of sophisticated decor for such an arguably cheap lodgings house. They could see through the glass-paned entrance that the street lights were finally on, a pedestrian or two walking past the inn's front every once and awhile.

"Well we were snooping around the top levels of Junon looking for any clues..." Yuffie started while stretching out on the far end of the couch opposite of the female Turks. "We tried restaurants, some back alley shops, even this one bar. That bar was just the worst! Nut jobs from all over seem to congregate here in Junon! There were these drunk idiots that tried to cause up some trouble, right, which is weird because who the heck would go out drinking that much in the middle of the day, but well anyways, I was like, '_gross-ness!_,' and was just about to give 'em a piece of my mind when Vinnie stopped me and scared 'em off with his creepy glare he does, but then we were the ones that got kicked out, which is just totally unfair, can you imagine that? So we moved on and asked around these stores but got nothing, then we walked passed this group of schoolgirls who started checking Vinnie out, which was funny cause we just kept walking while they called out for his number and stuff, and I was all like, _'rejected!'_, then we--"

"Yuffie!" Cait Sith interrupted the hyperactive ninja. "Take a breath, lass!"

"O-oh, sorry..." Yuffie apologized, her cheeks flushed red with embarrassment as she realized she had gotten carried away with her ramblings. The fact that everyone was staring at her with a perplexed, dumbfounded look on their faces did not help to unredden her face, either. "I kinda had a lotta coffee..."

Yuffie seemed to realize the very uncharacteristic way she was just acting, a performance that would normally be done by typical gossipy high school drama queens with nothing better to do than to drag on and on about cute boys and expensive make up, two girly-girl things she could care less to talk about, as she was much more interested in adventuring, materia-hunting, and proving her skills as a heroic shinobi of her proud homeland of Wutai to the world. With an inward sigh, Yuffie blamed the way she was behaving due to the inordinate amount of time she spent wearing the prissy, tight clothing she was forced to don as a disguise, finally making a mental note to never, ever, act that way again.

"Umm..." Yuffie restarted, calming herself down back down. "Well anyways, we got a tip about some suspicious guys who bought machineguns at this weapons shop. The owner said they were at a warehouse, and there's like, 5 major warehouses here in Junon so we checked 'em all until we found their little hideout."

"What happened?" Elena questioned.

"The place looked as if it had just recently been abandoned, with the dusty imprints of crates and stuff left behind, but luckily someone came back for some papers in the office. And I managed to pickpocket his satchel to take the documents!" Yuffie exclaimed as she shot up and made a triumphant superhero pose, bragging about her ninja skills.

"Heh, excellent work." Madison smiled, trying her best to hide the comical discomfit she felt from the enthusiastic teenager's silly, flamboyant idiosyncrasy. "So yeah, uh, where's the documents?"

"Oh yeah." Yuffie remembered, tossing the manila envelopes on the coffee table in front of them. "It's a bunch've records on everything they've been doing!"

"Nicely done, you two." Cait Sith commended as he reached out for the envelopes to give them a look-see.

"What about you guys?" Yuffie inquired of the female Turks. "Find anything out in that fishing village place?"

"Well, there's good news and bad news." Elena replied, causing the disguised Wutaian teenager to pout.

_"Why can't it ever just be nothing but the good news for once, why does there always gotta be bad, too?" _She thought to herself with a sigh. "What's the good news?"

"We got some more leads and even have an informant we've arranged to meet tomorrow morning that's going to help us scout out the possible rebel hideout." Madison answered. "On top of that, the people down there seem to idolize AVALANCHE, rather than hating you guys like everyone else on the entire Planet seems to. They respect you guys for your acts against ShinRa, the company they despised for taking over their quiet village years ago by building this city over it."

_Idolize?! Finally, some appreciation! That must be the best news I've heard in weeks..._ _I don't see how any bad news could hamper that... _Yuffie thought optimistically, though with some cautious objectivity. "So then, what's the bad news?"

Elena dropped her face to stare at the floor with her eyebrows knitted in ire as if foreshadowing what was about to be revealed. "We found out Don Corneo is involved in all this."

Vincent's human hand was already clasped over Yuffie's mouth, knowing that the mere mention of the perverted pimp that had tried to have his way with her would cause the fuming princess to shout out impulsively. Her cry of startled umbrage that would have drawn unneeded attention to the group's discussion was effectively mumbled by the marksman. Once he was sure she realized she had to remain quieter, he let his hand go and returned to sit on his solitary armchair.

"What the hell does Don Corneo have to do with all this?!" Yuffie demanded in a hushed, gravelly tone while leaning forward to the two Turks. "I thought he was dead!"

"I don't know why he's still alive!" Elena replied in a matching voice while also leaning forward, perturbed just as much as the little ninja that shared her captivity up against the face of Da Chao by Don Corneo. "I thought he was dead, too!"

"I was sure his fat ass was toast after Rude shot him in the back and Reno sent him falling off the freakin' cliff!!"

"I know, right?! As soon as I heard--"

"Hey, focus!" Madison snapped in a timbre similar to the irate women's speech. "Anyways, we don't know what he's got to do with this yet. One of the people in the village we interviewed said she had seen him on a street corner conversing with some armed people from the protest group before getting into a car and driving off further into the city." She turned to the robotic feline that was seated beside her, who was quickly reading the papers he held. "Back to business... hey Cait, what are those documents about?"

"Outpost locations, station numbers... overseas assets... routes of munitions transports..." Cait Sith read off out loud for the benefit of his listening teammates while storing the figures into his database for safe keeping and future reference. It's marshmallow muzzle slowly dropped in bewilderment as if registering yet another shocking revelation. "...Mako reactors!"

"Huh?" Elena breathed, arching her eyebrows. "Mako reactors, what about them?"

"The rebels are using Mako reactors!" Cait Sith cried out in a whisper before shooting a glance towards the only other person in the lobby, the receptionist seated behind the desk across the room from them. She appeared to have dozed off from the lack of business and had her head rested over her folded arms on the desk. Despite her rather loud snores, the animatronic cat chose to remain cautious and continued in a hushed tone. "That's how they're funding their entire operation! They've somehow rebooted the reactors from Midgar, Modeoheim, and the underwater one here in Junon, as well as a secret underground one somewhere north of Costa Del Sol that I've never heard of. They're selling the Mako they harvest from the reactors!"

"Hmm..." Yuffie pondered, her face looking off into the figurative distance as she went into deep thought, recalling how she had wondered why the neon lights and street lamps around the abandoned Sectors were still fully powered. "So that explains why the Slums were still powered and stuff... everything was on because the Mako Reactors were still running!"

"Precisely." Cait Sith said while standing up, handing the pages he had finished analyzing to Madison before moving on to examine the next set of papers. "Even after everything we've done, there still remains people who would continue to drain the Planet of it's precious Lifestream..."

"But wait, how are they selling the Mako?" Yuffie queried, crossing her arms and tilting her head in question. "If they directly wired their customers to the reactors, it would just cause a lot of suspicion, wouldn't it?"

"According to this," Cait Sith started as he quickly scanned the documents he held, "They take the Mako they reap from the reactors and store them in portable generators."

"Huh?" The princess asked. "What do you mean, 'portable generators?'"

"They're like miniature reactors. Anything requiring electricity to run can hook up to these miniature reactors and be powered by them. They're filled with a supply of condensed Mako."

"Think of them like Materia, Yuffie." Madison added, simplifying Cait Sith's explanation for the teenager. "Materia is crystallized Mako, meaning they are made out of Mako, or hold Mako within them. These portable generators are somewhat similar, because they hold Mako, as well. But it's a limited supply in each generator, so their customers would have to buy more generators to continue powering themselves."

"Oh, I get it." Yuffie nodded, understanding everything. "So the rebels have constant business, just selling off generator after generator."

"Exactly." Madison affirmed with a little smile. "But that just leaves the question of who's buying their Mako?"

"Seems like everybody is." Elena chimed in, nose buried deep in the papers she held. "Patrons in Gongaga, Icicle Inn, North Corel, all these tiny villages and rural municipalities... oh, and we've got a name, too." She showed the heading to the raven-haired Turk seated beside her. "One 'Havern Glaire.' Apparently, she's the author of these documents. Probably a secretary or something, considering the topic of these records."

"...Doesn't all this seem a little odd to any of you?" Yuffie speculated. "Er, odder than it already is... Look, what I mean is, these anti-AVALANCHE guys are obviously a lot bigger and organized than we originally thought, right? Doesn't it seem strange for some ragtag group of people looking to get revenge against a little gang of misfits like us to be this freakin' organized? At first, we encountered the rebels, right? They were understandably ragged in both organization and equipment, but then here we go in Midgar, and they've got this huge arrangement going on with alarm systems, trained guards with machineguns, vehicles and a leader that seems a little to detached with his group's goal, which is supposedly to kill us, right? Though he's been like, too diplomatic and stuff... Er, I don't know if I'm making any sense..."

"No, no, that was all surprisingly inquisitive, lass!" Cait Sith reassured. "Now that you mention it, it does seem a little odd. There has to be much more to this group than meets the eye. No simple ad-hoc collection of random townsfolk seeking petty vengeance would be this enterprising, especially on a scale as large as this."

"I also remember overhearing this guy back in Midgar talking about having joined the group for all these totally wrong reasons, hearing horrible actions that we never even did! It's like someone's been spreading rumors about us to gain more support for the rebel group or something."

"Okay, let's say there really is some clandestine institute behind all this," Madison started, "It would make sense, you know? Putting everything you guys just said together, also the thing with Moira taking out our members and still trying to get to the rest of us, adding that along with the radical relentlessness these guys are going through to wipe out AVALANCHE... if you ask me, it sounds like whoever really is at the top of all this is after us because... they want us out of the way, for some reason."

"But why?" asked Elena.

"Perhaps..." a deep voice spoke up, prompting everyone to turn their gazes towards the previously silent gunslinger, who had been seated by himself on the wooden lounge chair at the head of the circle of discussion, his arms typically folded over his chest and that same blank countenance of apathy painted on his face. "...It's because we're the only ones that can stop whatever it is that they're planning to do."

--

Yuffie and Vincent returned to their tiny room after the debriefing and subsequent lengthy wait for Reno and Rude to return. After an hour of waiting and trying to reach the two missing men via cell phone, an act that repeatedly gave a busy dial tone in response, Madison suggested the two AVALANCHE members get some sleep. The two female Turks remained seated on the couches in the lobby, Madison dozing off and Elena staying awake for the first watch, vigilant for both the clown girl and the hopeful arrival of her fellow Turks.

_Maybe we'll get lucky and they'll never come back…_ Yuffie snickered to herself while plopping face-first down on her claimed bed, her mental gibe aimed a lot more towards Reno rather than Rude.

Rude may have been a Turk, but he knew when to keep his mouth shut, a polar opposite of the red-haired clown. Cait Sith followed in after Vincent and shut the door, making his way to the center of the room. It had been agreed upon beforehand that the animatronic feline would watch over his two fellow AVALANCHE members so they could both rest simultaneously without taking turns of keeping watch for Moira. To keep it fair, the next night it would stand guard for the female Turks, then the male Turks, and rotate accordingly.

The original idea of Cait Sith staying at home base during the day time to relay any information between the investigating parties was scrapped in lieu of the aforementioned new night watch strategy, as the robotic cat would need the daylight hours to power down himself. Watching idly as Yuffie lazily kicked off her shoes and muttered something about being so tired she would just shower in the morning, Cait Sith sat down with it's legs crossed parallel from the middle of the two beds. Vincent set his hat on the nightstand between the two beds, unbuttoned his long-sleeve, and laid his shirtless back down onto the cold bed. He threw the covers over his legs, just under his waist like he always did, seemingly not uncomfortable at all despite the low temperature of the room.

"Sweet dreams, you two!" Cait Sith bade his two friends a farewell before they both departed for the dream world.

A lethargic grunt from the exhausted princess was his only reply before the lights went out and his sight converted to a dark shade of luminous green, the animatronic cat's night vision. Wrapping herself vigorously in the folds of her thin blanket, Yuffie fell asleep almost instantly. An immeasurable amount of darkness passed by before the area around her faded into a familiar scene, the same dream she had been undergoing for the past four days now. Yuffie cuffed her hand on her forehead like a visor to shield her eyes from the brilliant light above. Yuffie's eyes then slowly adjusted to the darkness straight before her and the brightness overhead.

_Not again…_ Her thought echoed like speech around her, bouncing off imaginary walls.

A freezing hand slid along her shoulders, causing the Wutaian ninja to twirl around. Her eyes searched for the being, scanning the blank void that ran on forever, only to find more darkness. Another cold hand slid down her leg and Yuffie stumbled away.

_Stop it! Get away from me!_ The scent of dust and dried jasmines engulfed her five senses and she felt the same cold fingers on her cheeks.

The voices suddenly came at her in full force. Countless hundreds begging her for freedom, peace and liberation from the agonizing blackness. Yuffie let out a terrified shriek as the cold hand grabbed her ankle in a painful death grip. It pulled her down to drown into the inky water the floor beneath her had become. The disembodied ethereal hands surrounded Yuffie, grabbing at every bit of her and pulling her apart. She tried to scream, but she choked on the shadows instead.

She somehow found herself free from the river of sorrow, and opened up the eyes she did not even know she had closed. The princess stared in wonder at the field of dead flowers that she was suddenly in the midst of, watching as a figure across from her rose up through the lifeless vegetation. The surrounding area was dotted with dilapidated steel structures and concrete rubble, a new addition from the last few dreams she had. From experience, she already knew the figure in front of her only looked like Aerith, but was actually Moira in disguise for some reason.

The little ninja figured that the same thing would happen again before she woke up--the thing with the thorns, the enigmatic riddle of a threat huffed by the female jester, things like that. Though, there was something about 'Aerith' that seemed different, a slight change about her that Yuffie could not quite put her finger on. She would never be able to explain it, but she seemed somewhat familiar. Almost comforting.

_Why does that damn clown girl insist to bring me here? This is supposed to be the Promised Land? It looks more like Aerith's flower patch from the church. Hell, this 'Promised Land' kinda looks like Midgar._

As soon as she said that, the figure abruptly morphed into Moira. _"Bingo."_

--

Now finally alone with his thoughts, Vincent exhaled before finding himself in the middle of the howling nihility of Chaos' existence. The guttural cachinnation he heard echoing through the nothingness came from none other than his four demons, all laughing ribaldly at the gunslinger who had been wearing such an out-of-character outfit complete with the ridiculous hat all day long.

_"Shut up…"_ Vincent respired in annoyance as he crossed his arms in the middle of the black void. _"Chaos, you know I've been lenient with all of you, and look what happened."_ The gunslinger was referring to the Galian Beast incident back in Midgar. _"I want some answers, Chaos. I believe that was our arrangement."_

Chaos simply licked it's lips as it hovered around the mental vision of Vincent in a circular pattern. Every second that passed, he could feel pangs of pain pulsating throughout his body, telling him that his demons in his body were more powerful than ever and were harder to supress. Rather than stuffing them back into their holes, Vincent simply attempted to dissuade the monsters within him from invading his conciousness for fear of losing the winged fiend's favor.

He hoped his pleasing of the demon would result in getting some long-awaited answers, but the gunslinger could not be sure whether Chaos would be true to his word or was merely attempting to trick it's host into letting down his guard enough to allow the winged monster to take over and wreak havoc as it so pleased.

_"Moira's still out there. Don't you know how to destroy--"_

Before he could finish, as if by cue, the representative visage of the colorful clown girl flashed before Vincent's eyes. She was floating as high as the winged fiend above, her lips still pulled back into her sickening smile that seemed to bask the furthest recesses of the perpetual abyss with it's vile malevolence. After some minutes of aimless drifting, a quick, infernal coruscated bolt irradiating an indigo afterglow engulfed the sky that was not there and shot straight through the puppet.

Vincent watched as the clown girl fell before him, slumped into a candid pile. As the gunslinger observed the female jester's corpse, he noticed that it was completely lifeless, nothing but a mere children's doll laying before him. A tiny platinum object landed beside the multihued toy, falling down from the sky like a meteorite.

_"Hmph…" _Vincent sighed at the chunk of mythril, cursing himself in hindsight for not realizing the obvious sooner. Thankful that he was alone in his mind where no one would ever hear what he was about to quote, he suddenly found himself thinking of what the little ninja would say in such an epiphanous situation. _"Duh…"_

* * *

**Author's note: Vincent saying "Duh…" Oh yeah. I went there. VV Questions, comments, reviews, criticisms etc. always make me a better writer. Till next time, I gotta study, grr…**


	11. The Thing that Should Not Be

**Beyond Paradise II**

_Disclaimer: I do not own Yuffie, Vincent, or anything/anybody else in this fiction, they belong to Square Enix. I also don't own previously established fictitious characters such as Moira, Zeb, or Jethro. They were created by the original fan fic's author, tolerant. This is not an "official" sequel by the original author, more like a tribute by me since the original has been discontinued, unfortunately. I am not affiliated with tolerant in any way, shape, or form (other than being a fan, of course)._

**Author's note: Wow, I keep envisioning the ending to Beyond Paradise over and over again in my head. It's still a little ways off, and even though I kinda wish I could keep this story going on forever, part of me can't wait to finally get to the ending for some reason…. Maybe it's cause if I do finally finish this (and I really, really do wanna), it would be the first story ever that I actually drew to a close. Yeah yeah, I know tolerant started it, but you get the point :P And major, major props to the insightful reviews by Szahara again, seriously, doing one for every chapter really does deserve this mention. Also props to mangman20070 for his observations, too, with his pointings out of things. You guys keep me going :P**

* * *

_Crawling Chaos underground  
Cult has summoned, twisted sound  
Out from ruins once possessed __  
Fallen city, living death  
Not dead which eternal lie  
Stranger eons, death may die  
Drain you of your sanity  
Face the thing that should not be_

_The Thing that Should Not Be  
--James Hetfield_

**- Chapter 21: The Thing that Should Not Be**

After taking a quick look around to make sure the empty street really was as deserted as it looked, Yuffie swiftly yanked Vincent into the secluded alleyway.

"We're finally alone." the little ninja panted heavily, her back against the wall, while she gripped the gunslinger by the folds of his cape and pulled him close to her. "I've been waiting all day for this…"

Their labored breathing echoed ecstatically across the walls around them as Vincent leaned down to meet Yuffie's yearning lips.

Cid shot up from the covers with a low gasp, freed from the weird dream, and looked around the room before realizing he was still on his bed at Cosmo Canyon's Shildra Inn. It took a few moments for the last images of intimacy between the cloaked marksman and the teenaged Wutaian princess to finally fade from his mind.

"That was just… wrong."

Cringing away the disturbing thoughts with a wince and a shudder, he rubbed his face vigorously before heaving a relieved sigh. Once his eyes adjusted to the darkness around him, Cid looked to his side at the IV apparatus the doctor had set up for him the other day. Since being hooked up to the contraption, he had been suffering quite sordid nocturnal visions of varying subject matters, all of which were unbelievably strange, all of which were not to his liking. Figuring the medications that were being pumped into him day in and day out were the source of his 'nightmares,' he suddenly found his tolerance for his forced stay completely diminished.

_I gotta make a mental note to never, ever get my ass injured again. _Cid thought to himself while painfully laying back down. He glanced at the alarm clock on the nightstand beside his bed. _That blood-thirsty nurse'll be here in a couple of hours…alright, this is about all the shit I can take! Seriously, I'm outta here, first thing in the goddamn morning._

He hesitantly shut his eyes and prepared himself for the next outrageous dream his drug-affected mind had to offer.

--

"What's wrong, Vince?!" Cait Sith inquired worriedly in a hushed tone so as not to stir the sleeping princess after Vincent suddenly shot up from his slumber while clutching his chest with his human hand.

Appearing to be undergoing some discomfort, the shirtless ex-Turk sighed before shaking his head reassuringly. "I'm fine."

He slowly rose from the bed and quietly made his way through the darkness to the door. Without saying a word, Cait Sith assumed Vincent was on his way to the bathroom and remained seated in the same spot he had been patiently frozen in for the past several hours. Even though the animatronic cat knew it was obvious that the gunslinger had just experienced some sort of nightmare and was on his way to probably run some water through his face and think for a bit, the very connection of Vincent and the toilet created a random hypothetical inquiry in his robotic mind.

_Hmm…_ Cait Sith tilted his head up in contemplation. _…Does Vincent ever even use the bathroom at all?_

The trek down the dimly-lit hallway of the inn was surprisingly noiseless, save for the flickering buzzes coming from a malfunctioning wall lamp at the end of the corridor. Vincent shut the lavatory door behind him and pulled the chain hanging down from the ceiling light overhead, turning it on. The weak circle of illumination swayed slightly from left to right in a slight oval pattern due to the motion caused by Vincent's pull of the chain, giving the shirtless gunslinger's reflection in the mirror a depressing, shadowy gloom silhouetted against the lamp's pitiful rays.

Vincent gazed at the long-haired shadow staring back through the glass before him, studying the figure carefully with his crimson orbs for what felt like an eternity. He took a deep breath and gradually exhaled, taking a few more moments to stare at himself in the mirror before he turned on the faucet. He dipped his human hand in the cold liquid before gently rubbing his face with his wet palm.

A perpetual stillness passed before Vincent realized the demons he was looking for were missing. The thorough search through every corner of his mind yielded no trace at all. Though it was certainly strange, he found himself embracing the quietude, a worriless tranquility he had not felt for over three decades, the period of time he sorely missed before being implanted with his vile tormentors by the horrible experiments conducted on him in the murky, cavernous basement of Shinra Manor.

Gripping the edges of the sink while still leaned forward, Vincent returned his gaze to his reflection in front of him, at a loss for what else to do. By then, the lamp hung behind and above the half-naked marksman had finished it's idle swinging, it's light finally settled enough to allow Vincent a clear vision of his image reflecting off the glass. He looked into his own scarlet hues for the longest time, savoring every second of the serenity as it almost made him feel human again.

The peace was abruptly destroyed as the glass before him shattered into countless pieces. A gargantuan rotting fist shot through the remnants and clutched Vincent by the throat with enough force to completely crush the gunslinger's slender esophagus. Vincent's expression maintained it's blank apathy as he glared tacitly at the motor-mouthed face of Death Gigas. The many rusted metallic bolts that dotted it's hulking frame crackled with electricity as it effortlessly shoved the impassive gunslinger across the tiny room.

Vincent's back hit the wall behind him hard before he fell down and landed on the closed seat of the toilet. An inhuman roar bellowed to his left before the shut lavatory door was ripped of it's hinges and the massive Galian Beast rampaged into the bathroom, it's unbridled thrashing causing cracks to develop along the tiled walls and floor. Death Gigas burst through it's confines to join in it's horned brother's vicious assault just before a deafening whir rumbled behind the gunslinger.

Out of the corner of his eye, Vincent caught sight of a razor-toothed chainsaw ripping through the interior behind him, cutting the space behind the ex-Turk in a crooked semi-circle. Hellmasker's eruption was utterly colossal, his atrocious structure stepping through the opening before he brandished his threatening weapon in a menacing modus. The three monsters perforated in front of him, laughing in their brutish, barbaric timbres as they taunted their host.

Death Gigas thundered manically, it's leviathan fists beating on it's hulking chest like a drum, before it grabbed Vincent around the waist and forcefully tossed him into the corner parallel to the doorway leading out into the corridor, right smack dab into the bathtub. A resolute countenance preserved on his pastel face, Vincent remained stalwart at the daunting fiends in front of him before his crimson hues met with their winged frontrunner behind them, standing soundlessly in the hall. It observed the scene unfolding with a repulsive leer painted on it's devilish lips, advertising a sadistic mien at the cape-less sharpshooter's expense.

And just as soon as they appeared, they were all gone. In the blink of an eye, the echoing snarls, reverberant howls, and earsplitting screeches ceased abruptly. Vincent calmly scanned the area around him where the demonic entities were running berserk just an instance before, seeing the mirror, door frame, and wall behind the toilet perfectly intact.

The incident was all in his mind. He placed his palm over his forehead as if suppressing a migraine, finding it more and more difficult to contain his monstrous beings as the days and nights passed. He realized his skin was as cold as ice, and for the first time in a long while, beads of sweat ran down his face and he was actually shivering.

_Am I losing control?_ Vincent mused, still seated. _They're getting stronger. Is it worth the protection and foresight against Moira…? _A sudden jolt of pain from his heart attacked him, an apparent answer to his inquiry, causing Vincent to grip his chest with his human hand._ …Perhaps laxing my restraint over them was not such a good idea after all._

He closed his eyes and tilted his head back, resting the back of his cranium against the tiled wall behind him. Continuing his cogitations, he found himself thinking of the safety and well-being of his comrades in the event of his demons gaining so much manipulative influence over his psyche that he would not be able to stop himself from doing something dangerously irrational.

He disliked the possibility of inadvertently causing harm to the people that have taught him that he did have a purpose in life, causing harm to the people that he learned to call his friends, especially Yuffie, though the latter was an afterthought he hesitated on. Vincent was surprised at the notion, but shrugged it off as a mere concern due to the number of times he was paired off with the little ninja, and the inevitable times he would most likely be partnered with her in the future; at least until this whole thing was over.

_I should tell Cloud about this.__ Or maybe I should just leave, it would be better for them. Once this is over and I'm no longer needed…_

He felt the greatest worry for Yuffie due to her being around him the most and the high likelihood that he might lose control of Chaos in her presence. He contemplated attempting to avoid her more often for her own benefit, but he sighed, knowing that even though he could not really speak for the teenaged princess, she would probably not have it anyway and continue to follow him around undeterred.

He ran his human hand through his sable hair, stood up from the ceramic bathtub and made his way for the door while mentally glaring at the demons within him that were not welcome, execrating their unwanted presence. Knowing the true burden was none other than Chaos itself due to it's immensely destructive power and seeming dominance over the lesser demons, he loathed the winged fiend more than he ever did and wished that he could trade the fanged terror for all the other monsters in the world.

Anything but Chaos. Though, that was merely wishful thinking. He exited the lavatory to make his way back to the room while sighing at the thing that should not be.

--

"Why is she being so difficult?!" the obese, flamboyant man screeched as he made his escape from the enraged bartender.

Don Corneo crawled out from the interrogation room in a daze while holding his nose, which was bleeding profusely. The sentry standing guard outside the room widened his eyes in disbelief as the slithering pimp dragged himself across the floor into his view, the cigarette he was smoking barely dangling from his lips due to witnessing such a sight.

The sentinel hesitantly peaked his head through the doorway and saw their raven-haired prisoner seated defiantly on the opposite end of the table, her eyes shut, teeth barred, and arms wrapped firmly over her bust. He could almost swear he saw a vein pulsating furiously on her forehead before he slowly shut the iron ingress and locked it.

"Unbelievable…" Corneo muttered under his breath while pulling out a handkerchief and lightly patting his painful nose, still on the ground on all fours. "I mean, I do like them feisty, but that was just ridiculous--"

"Maybe..." He looked up a bit, finding himself staring at a pair of smooth, ebony legs as a precise, professional voice interrupted his mumbling. "She would have been a tad more cooperative if you would exercise more restraint with yourself, sir."

"Hmm…" Corneo breathed, pretending to listen to her words. He was much more preoccupied with sweating over her silken extremities. "Indeed…"

"Hey-hey-hey!" she squawked to get his attention, snapping her fingers in cadence. "Eyes up here, mister!"

"Oh, y-yes, yes." he bumbled while lifting himself up to his feet. "Miss Glaire, what is it you want, then?"

He stood up and patted himself off before looking at the black woman in front of him, the same lady who had questioned Cloud the morning before. It was just then that Corneo noticed that she was accompanied by another woman. Appearing to be her very own assistant, she had short, blonde hair and appeared to in her late twenties, looking just as serious about her job as the woman she worked under. During the whole dialogue that was to come, unclean thoughts concerning both of the females standing in front of him would course through Don Corneo's mind.

"We have a problem." Glaire started while placing her hands on her hips. "The courier from the munitions depot came back without my documents. Though I do have doubts about his competence, he maintains that he has reason to believe they were somehow stolen from him."

"Stolen? Preposterous, who would be left to steal them? That Wutai flea and the other one have been dealt with, no?"

"As confirmed by Mr. Mahonney's men."

"Then that could only leave the Turks, if they're foolish enough to still be around. Report this to that Zeb fella and find out his thoughts on all this."

Glaire nodded. "Right away, sir."

The two women gave a quick bow before turning around to leave.

"Hmm…" libidinously sighed the Don while eying his secretary's hind legs, finding a sick humor in a woman wholeheartedly referring to him by such an authoritative title. _I would much rather have you call me 'daddy.'_

Glaire stopped in her tracks at the sound of his questionable-sounding exhale and slightly turned her head back at him as if having sensed the very thought he had. Choosing to take the forbearing track, she covered up her agitation with a last-second observation.

"What about the prisoner?"

"Huh?" Corneo questioned, his mouth half open. It took him a few moments to realize who she was referring to. "Oh, Tifa. Yes, what of her, Havern?"

"…Sir," she started with an annoyed sigh, "If it would not be too much trouble, I would much rather have you refer to me by my surname, considering the settings and the seriousness of our work environment."

"Hmm…" he chuckled, obviously amused. "Are you so involved in your work that we should completely forgo all pleasantries? Besides, I believe you have little say in the matter, my dear. You are merely my secretary, an underling to me. I call the shots here, and I can call you whatever I please. Anyways, I'm only trying to treat you as a friend!"

Havern saw right through his lie.

"Mr. Corneo," she began to respond, her voice clearly perturbed and tapered of all tolerating patience, "Regardless of how you view me, I am nothing more than your assistant. The board hired me to do nothing but be your secretary, and as much as I now regret taking the job, I continue to do so solely on the basis that I have to in order to earn my nice, fat paycheck. No matter what you think of me, I hold absolutely no personal esteem towards you in any way, shape, or form. I am not your friend, I am not your servant, and I am _definitely _not your chew toy.

"Now," she continued her rant, her eyebrows knitted exasperation, "If you would like to get things done as efficiently and quickly as possible, perhaps you could find it in your power to completely leave all idle banter nonexistent and keep things strictly professional between us."

"Fine, fine…" The don rolled his eyes. "So, go interrogate the prisoner, MISS GLAIRE."

"I cannot do that," she sighed, annoyed at his attitude, "I am on my way to relay a message from you to Zeb and ask his thoughts about all this, REMEMBER, SIR? Besides, I already questioned their Chocobo-head leader yesterday."

"Well, _someone_ has to go in there."

"Alright." Havern bit her lip, thinking. She strayed her gaze behind Don Corneo over to the smoking guard, who widened his brown hues in terror and frantically shook his head from side to side, begging her not to send him in there with the furious bartender. Havern rolled her eyes and sighed in perturbation. After a few moments, she turned to her own assistant, the blonde woman standing next to her. "Question the prisoner."

The golden-haired secretary of the secretary flinched, clearly not expecting such an order. "…I'm sorry?"

The already impatient Havern gave an annoyed sigh as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "Go into that room right there and find out what you can from Tifa Lockhart."

"…But, ma'am, I'm not trained or qualified--"

"Are you defying a direct order?" Havern interrupted her. "Listen here, missy. You are new around here and have only been working for me for less than a week. I am a very busy woman, I have no time to argue with some stupid little invalid like you. Just do what I say."

"…I-I-I--"

"I-I-I call the shots here." she snapped mockingly at her stuttering, oblivious to the ironic way she was just acting. "Go."

The blonde batted a glance to the obese don as if looking for some help, only to be met with an aloof expression that seemed to tell her that she was on her own. With an awkwardly hesitant bow, she reluctantly made her way to the locked room as Corneo and Havern made their exit.

"Good luck…" the guard sighed sympathetically for the blonde woman's sake before unlatching the door.

She slowly walked in, an innocent shyness to her movements giving the impression that she had no idea what was going on and was only part of all this for the Gil. She hesitantly sat down across from the still-fuming martial artist, her eyes still shut, her arms still folded, and her teeth still barred.

"H-hi, I'm--"

"I don't care." Tifa spat, feeling her trademark kindheartedness would be wasted on a member of the enemy that had treated her and everybody she cared about so unjustly. "I'm not talking."

"Oh, you don't understand, I'm here as your friend."

"Hmph…" Tifa scoffed, assuming she was trying some sort of lame, overused reverse-psychology interrogation technique on her. "Sure."

The shy blonde took a careful glance over her shoulder, seemingly looking to see if the guard was still there. Finding the open doorway empty, she turned back to Tifa with a new look on her face. The timid mien she had was all but gone now, replaced with a calm, almost cocksure expression.

"No, you don't understand…"she continued, hushed, a confident and subtle slyness superseding the feebleness that was no longer in her voice. "I'm here as your… _friend."_

She narrowed her eyes, as if hoping the raven-haired bartender would decipher whatever point she was trying to get across. Tifa knitted her brows in confusion and meticulously studied the blonde woman before her, trying to understand her intentions. Suddenly, a quick vision of a resemblance flashed. The woman seated in front of her reminded her of a certain blonde Turk.

"…Elena?" Tifa asked hesitantly with her voice in a whisper, unsure of the connection.

The golden-haired woman merely smirked and gave her a wink.

--

Despite the long, restless day of exhausting investigations, Elena found herself completely wide awake. The past few hours since her watch ended, the blonde Turk simply laid with her back rested on the couch in quiet contemplation, her eyes locked at the blank ceiling above her.

"Elena," the soft morning voice of Madison chimed, breaking the young Turk's idle train of thought, "You should really try to get some rest. We'll be meeting up with that contact in a couple of hours, you know."

"Yeah, I know." she replied while sitting up, gently pushing aside the thin wool blanket the lady behind the reception desk was kind enough to bring out for the two female Turks, seemingly not bothered at all by their stay in the lobby rather than their room.

Despite the somewhat tawdry accommodations, Elena had to admit that the service from the inn's caring staff was top-notch.

"It's just that…" Elena continued, pausing for a deep yawn. "…It's just that I'm worried. Y'know, for Reno and Rude."

"I am, too, though there's nothing we can really do. It's still early and there's a million places to look through should we go looking for them later. Besides, you know very well that they can take care of themselves." She gave a reassuring smile to her younger companion seated across from her on the parallel couch.

"You're right. Even with Reno's idiotic attitude and clumsy proneness, Rude always seems to take care of things." She half-smiled, still worried for her two friends.

She could not help feeling the way she did. When the tyrannical, money-grubbing Shinra, Inc. finally collapsed, Elena clung desperately to Reno and Rude because she had no where else to go and no one else to turn to. For some time, she drifted aimlessly with them, eventually coming to love the two like brothers.

When they were contacted by the injured Rufus Shinra through a recovered Tseng and offered the job of bodyguard duty due to a random attempt on Rufus's life initiated by an unknown assailant, the trio went together. Even as after more of the other Turks in the organization flocked to the ex-president with the promise of being paid for their services--most taking on the job for the Gil while the rest, like Elena and her adoptive siblings Reno and Rude, accepting the offer due to a sincere loyalty they still held for Tseng and Rufus--Elena found herself constantly sticking with the red-haired goofball and the silent bald man.

Further still, even after her actual blood sibling, Beatrice, walked in through the door of the Healin Lodge, the majority of her time was spent alongside the duo. Despite the fact that she pretty much despised Beatrice anyways, the reality remained that Reno and Rude were her family now. Though Elena still had an unconditional love for Beatrice, a sisterly blood bond you could not just go about and shatter at will, their relationship was stale at best due to their clashing egos and competitive tendencies to constantly outdo the other. Elena didn't know why she felt that way. She just did.

"It's okay to be concerned." Madison said. "It's just natural. But if you worry way too much, you'll end up worrying yourself sick and you won't be able to do anything should the need arise because you'll be lying in a bed. The best you can do is to get some sleep and rest up for whatever we gotta do if and when the time comes. Savvy?"

"Alright… but what do we do if they don't come back?"

"Well, we will still have meet up with this contact. There's no choice, we may never get an opportunity like that again." She put a hand to her chin as a thought popped to mind. "Perhaps…"

"Perhaps what?"

"…Well, I was just thinking. We can't just leave those two out there if they don't return. So, if Rude and Reno don't get back soon, while we go meet the informant in the morning we could… try to get Yuffie and Vincent to go look for them."

"Ha!" Elena scoffed at the thought. "Fat chance!"

"I know it sounds crazy, but there's nothing else we can do. Maybe if we ask nicely?"

"Yeah, right…" Elena spat at the idea before remembering her concern for the missing Turks. She then conceded to the suggestion, feeling like it was a necessity if it would save her friends. "Oh well, it's worth a shot, I guess."

"Alright, I'll talk to them about it in the morning before we head out… you know, I'm actually pretty worried for our spy, as well. We haven't been able to contact her for days now."

"'Her?' Don't you mean 'him?'"

"No, I mean 'her,' why?"

"I thought Scud headed out that morning. He didn't?"

"No, at the last second, Beatrice convinced him to let her go instead."

It took some time for the statement to register in her mind, but when it finally did, Elena could not help herself.

"**WHAT?!**"

If anybody within a block's radius of the inn was not awake yet, they certainly were now.

* * *

**Author's note: Hmm… I like this chapter. Ha, I got the idea for the start of this chapter from the beginning of tolerant's own chapter 5 of the original BP. **

**Interesting little factoid, remember the link to the manga I posted up a few chapters back? I had thought it had been discontinued since the last update was like a year ago, but I just recently visited the page again for a little bit of inspiration and found that it had just received a new edition. Eeeeexcellent -tents fingers menacingly-**


	12. A Perfect Storm

**Beyond Paradise II**

_Disclaimer: I do not own Yuffie, Vincent, or anything/anybody else in this fiction, they belong to Square Enix. I also don't own previously established fictitious characters such as Moira, Zeb, or Jethro. They were created by the original fan fic's author, tolerant. This is not an "official" sequel by the original author, more like a tribute by me since the original has been discontinued, unfortunately. I am not affiliated with tolerant in any way, shape, or form (other than being a fan, of course)._

**Author's note: ****GOD! This chapter was supposed to be added on last week, but damn I've been preoccupied with my friends lately…they just won't leave me alone! One of em is going through a dramatic time right now so I gotta be there (sigh).**** Interesting little not, I already have the remaining chapters planned out until the very end (I have the poems and chapter titles already written down). I'm not gonna tell you how many are left, though. That would just spoil everything :P **

**Though as it turns out, I'm adding on a couple more chapters than I originally thought, this one being the first. I really wanted to get to the next chapter tonight after this, but like I said, my friends keep bugging.  
**

* * *

_Liberty or death  
What we so proudly hail__  
Once you provoke her  
Rattling of her tail  
Never begins it  
Never, but once engaged  
Never surrenders  
Showing the fangs of rage  
So be it, threaten no more  
To secure peace is  
To prepare for war  
So be it, settle the score  
Touch me again with  
The words that you will hear evermore_

_Don't Tread On Me  
--James Hetfield_

- **Chapter 22: A Perfect Storm  
**

Despite the relaxing couch, the peaceful fire, the pleasant little blanket draped over her shoulders, and the cup of hot espresso she held in her hands, Elena suffered a gnawing uneasiness that compelled her to idly run her thumbs around the ridges of her coffee mug in a discomfiting silence. Her very first assignment upon joining the Investigation Sector of ShinRa's General Affairs Department, better colloquially known as the Turks, was a series of undertakings that almost inevitably led to various confrontations with AVALANCHE.

With the quieter periods in-between such encounters, her impetuousness and naiveté inadvertently induced a feeling of self-arrogance against her ordered enemies. Elena initially saw the individuals of AVALANCHE as faceless foes that she was explicitly superior to. Her ego and desire to indisputably out-rival all others--particularly her older sister--created an unquestionable fearlessness against the crew of Machiavellian hooligans. Elena never really stopped to think about the possibility of a situation occurring where she would find herself in their presence amidst a no-longer violent atmosphere.

Now her original conceptions were all but shattered. She found herself sitting mere feet away from Vincent Valentine. Though his firearms and trademark cape-over-leather ensemble were no where to be found, all of which were now replaced with everyday garments that succeeded in giving the long-haired gunslinger an almost timid veneer, Elena could not help but be intimidated by his presence.

Vincent merely sat in a pacified manner on his assumedly claimed armchair, his right ankle crossed over his left knee with his arms folded over his chest, vacuously eying the gentle waltz of the auburn flames. This was nothing but a typical sight regularly witnessed by the other members of AVALANCHE, but for some unapparent reason, it scared the hell out of the fledgling blonde Turk.

He had come downstairs to investigate Elena's shriek upon discovering the true identity of the Turk spy as none other than her older sister, Beatrice, whom Madison had no idea of the relation between the two due to the fact that she never saw Beatrice and Elena speak. Once finding out all was well, he returned upstairs and took a quick shower to allow free bathroom time later for Yuffie, which would save her a complaining fit, then came back to the lobby and settled himself quietly in front of the cozy fireplace, presumably out of insomnia. Much to Elena's relief, Madison exited the lounge and returned to her two allies. She peaked Elena's curiosity when the young blonde saw her companion talking on the phone.

"Okay…" Madison said to the person on the other line. "…Right, see you guys soon."

"Who was that?" asked Elena, a trace of masked hope in her voice.

"Believe it or not, that was Reno and Rude."

"Wha?! How are they?"

"Well, they found Rude's cousin. As well as her gang… Whom they got in a huge fight with." She rolled her eyes at the latter.

"Sounds like they got themselves in trouble."

"Well, they got their asses handed to 'em and were captured."

"Great…" Elena sighed while she hung her head low, feeling embarrassment for her two friends.

"But luckily, Rude's cousin stopped everything and they got to talking. Reno actually messaged me an hour ago while you were taking that nap and I just told him everything we've learned about these guys, their Mako Reactors and stuff like that. Turns out, these gangster guys are kind of like environmentalists and despised ShinRa for personal reasons. Now they're interested in having a meeting with us. Just now, they told me that they're both driving on their way over here with some representatives from the gang. If we play our cards right, we may get some new allies."

--

The field of flowers slowly began to contract, the edges receding itself towards the confused little ninja, who was apparently standing in the middle of everything. As the vegetation shrank, a barren dirt landscape replaced the flora. The decaying steel and stone rubble that dotted the wasteland began to rise upwards from the ground until they were floating in midair, a massive earthquake shaking the very ground that Yuffie was standing on. The wreckage and debris quickly started forming into the structures and edifices they once were, and soon Yuffie found herself standing within the Sector 5 church, the very same religious building that was once frequented by the late Aerith Gainsborough.

The terrified young princess shot her head in every direction as her surroundings began moving and shifting at a rapid space, seemingly teleporting the still teenager to another area in the city. After a few seconds, everything abruptly halted and Yuffie realized she was up above amongst the ruins of the once great metropolis of Midgar.

She looked before her and noticed Moira hovering a few yards before her. The usual wicked countenance that was always painted across her porcelain face was strangely replaced with a serious expression that seemed to show concern and worry for the little ninja. As Yuffie examined the clown girl, she developed a feeling deep in her heart that told her there was something different about Moira. Whatever it was, it was strangely comforting.

Just then, the winds picked up and the sky overhead immediately darkened. The ominous overcast was accompanied by a catastrophically thunderous lightning storm that violently perforated the ruined metropolitan expanse. Yuffie raised her gaze to the heavens as a reverberant drone overhead grew louder and louder. She gasp in horror as a fiery mass of carmine rock, inconceivably titanic in scale, peaked out of the static haze above and started crashing down into the vestiges of Midgar.

"_Meteor?!" _She was too wholly engrossed with the calamity to notice that she could actually speak, something that she was unable to do in her previous dreams.

Despite the approaching cataclysm, something compelled her to return her caramel hues back to the clown girl. Moira simply remained hovering in place and returned Yuffie's stare with that same fretful mien. After some moments, Moira touched the ground and began inching towards the little ninja, taking her sweet time as she sauntered through the thick, miasmal brume.

Slowly, the female jester's purple lips lost it's fake color. Her blue hair grew out into a jet black flowing mane that danced fervidly in the infinite, overpowering gusts of Meteorfall. As she steadily grew in height, the extravagant doll clothing she wore transmuted into a beautifully decorated dressing gown adorned with a magnificent tessellation of intricate shapes and alluring pigments. With the transformation nigh complete, Yuffie felt her eyes begin to water once she finally recognized the specter approaching her.

"_Okaasan?" _Yuffie managed to choke out in her native Wutaian tongue as a tear ran down her cheek. She was shocked, realizing that her dearly departed mother was now standing before her.

She gave a timid smile for her daughter, but it soon faded once she raised her head to the sky at the approaching Meteor. Yuffie followed suit and let out a gasp when she saw the extraterrestrial rock was not Meteor at all. As it passed the smog, it became clear that the plummeting mass was actually a familiar amorphous bulk of a behemoth--Heaven's Dark Harbinger, the monstrosity known as Jenova. The panicked little ninja dropped her gaze to her mother, but gasped when she saw the platinum orbs of a maniacal Zeb Mahonney glaring furious daggers at her.

And with that, Yuffie shot up from her bed in a cold sweat, still crying from witnessing such a vivid catastrophe. Cait Sith leaped to his feet and rushed to the weeping girl's side.

"What's wrong, lass?" he asked worriedly while placing his hands on the edge of the bed.

Yuffie sobbed lightly to herself and remained silent, refusing to discuss what she just endured to the robotic feline for whatever reason. Instead, she began to wonder what the dream had meant. Why her mother and the rebel leader were there was a mystery to Yuffie. She theorized her mother was somehow giving her a warning using the mythril link to the world of the dead in Moira's body, but she was at a loss as to what it was.

_We all already know because of what Jethro said that Zeb went insane and wants to somehow bring back Jenova to get to his wife and kid in the Promised Land… _Yuffie contemplated as she sat quietly with her knees pulled to her chest, her eyes staring off blankly in deep thought. _…But what could that have meant? What could she have been trying to tell me? …Could Midgar have something to do with all of this?_

After taking a deep breath, she wiped the last of her tears from her eyes and got up from the bed, giving the black cat a small, supportive smile to let him know she would be alright. She reinforced the sentiment by playfully ruffling the back of the feline's head, making the crown crooked and causing Cait Sith to exclaim defiantly in it's comically shrill voice. Her robotic companion was relieved to know she was actually fine, but he still could not help but wonder and worry.

_Maybe Vincent will know…_ she continued her thoughts as she opened the door._ That freakin' vampire has the perfect answers for like, everything. _

As her sobs began to diminish, she exited the room and made her way down the hall for the shower she was too exhausted to take the night before.

--

Vincent and Cait Sith switched their gazes from the lit fireplace towards the front door as soon as they heard the bell above the ingress ring. Two men and a woman, all of whom were wearing predominantly blue attire, entered the lobby followed by the missing male Turks. They passed by the reception desk where the same middle-aged woman from the day before was planted behind, once again having dozed off due to the lack of business.

Cait Sith cuffed his mouth with both hands, halfheartedly suppressing a snicker, once he caught sight of Reno's black eye. Rude seemed to have fared better than his partner, sporting nothing else but a slightly busted-up lower lip. The red-haired suited man barred his teeth and stared daggers at the animatronic cat as the five approached the AVALANCHE duo.

His arms folded over his chest, Vincent examined the three new additions to the group. The young woman had her shiny, brown hair tied back with a bandanna and she seemed to have a permanently vacant look in her eyes, something that gave off the slightest hint that she was truly wise beyond her years. She had a studded piercing on the middle of her lower lip and despite her petite structure, her frame was athletic and toned. The tallest one had a massive and powerfully-built frame which would truly be intimidating to the common man, and his gaze was as rugged as his features. His head was trimmed into a fade hairstyle and he advertised a very serious and determined aura about him.

The third was a teenager, brown of skin and was about as tall as the gunslinger himself, sporting equally long hair parted in a different style, as well as a tuft beard. He was dressed the most casually out of the trio, sporting a pair of boot-cut jeans and a loose T-shirt that hid his sinewy physique. Interestingly, his brown hues slightly bulged out in a protuberant fashion and his eyebrows were perpetually knitted into a fixated glare, qualities that served to give the teenager a permanently surprised or inquisitive look. Such a peculiar expression gave off the impression that he was either idiosyncratically eccentric, or just possibly insane.

"Madison and Laney meeting with the informant?" Reno asked the robotic cat.

By now, Yuffie had appeared, casually walking into the circle to find a seat.

"Hey Vincent." Yuffie greeted her gunslinging friend as she sat down on the adjacent couch beside him, twirling her baseball cap on her index finger as she waited for her damp hair to finish drying naturally.

Vincent nodded in acknowledgment, though he secretly sighed inwardly to himself that the little ninja went straight to him. It made him think back to his contemplations just a few hours before. Yuffie glanced at Reno and Rude, preparing to make an impertinently sarcastic comment pertaining as to how she was glad that they had finally returned safely, but stopped and widened her eyes in surprised amusement upon seeing the red-haired Turk's beat-up face.

"They left an hour ago." Cait Sith answered of Reno's earlier inquiry while nodding his head. "Who's your friends?"

"Ah, yeah." he sighed while scratching his nose, disregarding the suppressed snickers from the disguised princess. "This 'roidasaurus here is Max, the leader of Norté Magus, Incorporated. The girl's Rude's cousin and NMI's lieutenant, Questa. The kid's Cleon, pretty decent in hand to hand." He ignored the racking soreness in his jaw he felt after mentioning the long-haired gang member, who was the one that gave him the injury. "…He still needs some work, though."

It was then that Vincent noticed the third kid's eyes suddenly narrowed, his gaze focused on the teenager seated beside him. Cleon seemed to be fastidiously analyzing Yuffie as if he were trying to recognize the Wutaian princess. Vincent glanced to the teenaged ninja to his left. It seemed like she was purposely straying her eyes to all sides as if she were trying to hide her face from him.

"…Hey." Cleon muttered while he tilted his head as if slowly realizing a resemblance.

Yuffie hesitantly turned her head towards him and adjusted her novelty eyeglasses.

"…I'm sorry?" Her voice was poorly disguised, an entire octave lower than usual.

Cleon's eyes widened as he saw right through her facade. "Yuffie?!"

"O-oh… Hi Cleon!" she greeted cheerfully, trying in vain to hide her nervous stuttering. Her eyes were closed and she put on the biggest, most innocent grin she could muster. "I didn't see you there--er, I mean, I didn't _recognize _you. How've ya been--"

"DON'T even START!" he interrupted her in a ferocious tone.

Everybody else traded confused looks and unknowing shrugs as they looked on.

"What's all this? Old boyfriend, Yuffie?" Reno asked, a question that could only come from him.

"WHAT?!" she exclaimed, both offended and embarrassed, suddenly feeling the urge to jump up, grab Reno by his pony tail and smash the red-haired Turk's face into the coffee table.

"Pfft!" Cleon snorted at such an outrageous query while crossing his arms. "I was wit some friends comin' back from Rocket Town a year ago when we met up with Yuffie. She was bein' attacked by these wolf things out in the forest and we rescued her. We felt sorry for her and let her stay with us at our campsite that night 'ta heal up. The followin' mornin', we woke up and realized she made off with all our Gil and Materia!"

"Hmm…" Cait Sith sighed. "Yup, sounds like our Yuffie, alright."

"Shut up, you walkin' microwave!" The Wutaian teenager screeched. "You're not helping!"

"You guys settle down, will ya?" Questa chimed in authoritatively. Her accented voice was intimidating enough with such a tough, femininely deep tone. "We don't got the time for shit like this."

"What're you talkin' about?!" Cleon barked. "The 'lil klepto stole all my goddamn money!"

"Why are you so angry for losing 30 Gil?!" shrieked Yuffie while shooting up from her seat. "30 lousy Gil?!"

"It's the principle of the thing!"

"Principle?! Ha! You're a thief, too! You stole all your Materia just the same!"

"Yeah, but how you gonna steal from another--"

"Hey." Max interjected while giving his fuming underling an impassive glower.

That was all he said. Cleon stared back into the black man's umber hues with the odd visage in his own eyes for some moments before he sighed and stopped his attack. The gang leader then slowly stepped forward, gaining the attention of the three AVALANCHE members.

"Now if you don't mind," the giant started, his no-nonsense voice having a sort of street intonation, "I'd like to take a look at those documents."

Cait Sith nodded before he pulled the files out of the manila envelope that was resting on the coffee table the entire time. He handed the papers over to Max, who had to bend down a little bit to take them due to his large height. The three gang members huddled together and began sifting through the documents as the robotic feline found a seat next to the little ninja. He gave her a quick glance, prompting her to shoot back a nervous, apologetic smile for the short argument she had exchanged with the long-haired Mage.

"Heavens, lass…" Cait Sith groaned in a low voice at Yuffie while placing his palm to his forehead. "Are you going to get into a fight with _everybody_ we're trying to join forces with?!"

--

"Is all this really necessary?" Jethro asked in his facet calmness.

"Well, we can't take our chances." Don Corneo chuckled lightly as he took his seat across from the chained-up man.

Jethro's arms were covered in metallic restraints, confining him to the chair. He took quick glances at the three sentinels in front of him, their guns centered on his center mass.

"They didn't have this kind of service when Cloud got interrogated. Hmm, if I didn't know any better, I'd say you were afraid of me…" He smiled scornfully at the obese man's apparent paranoid cowardice. "By the way, what happened to your nose?"

Don Corneo glared at the overly-relaxed ex-rebel when he brought up the wound that Tifa had given him just a couple hours before. The fat man's face was red with anger and embarrassment, a comical supplement to his bandaged nose.

_And that's three… _Beatrice thought while peaking from the doorway.

She quietly walked off down the empty hallway, having confirmed the presence of the third prisoner. She traveled some ways, passing a small handful of guards and personnel before stopping outside the door of a broom closet. Taking a quick glance around, the blonde spy ducked into the small room, which was empty and appeared to have never been used, seemingly a perfect place to make a transmission.

"Beatrice?" came the voice on the other line, a secured frequency from the PHS the blonde spy stole earlier.

"Oh…" the older sister greeted in a mocking tone, the same way she had always done so when addressing Elena. Though very stern and serious in nature, especially when involved in her work, Beatrice always found the time to belittle her younger sibling at every opportunity, which was her own way of bragging about her superiority. "…Hello _Elena._"

"…Status report." Elena requested, choosing to keep things professional, though a trace of tension was evident in her tone.

"Zeb Mahonney, Don Corneo, and the three prisoners are indeed here. How much longer until you guys can organize everything?"

"Within the hour. We've enlisted the aid of a local gang and they're on their way to the rally point with the rest of us."

"Roger, I hope you'll put them off to good use. Fortunately, I've noticed since my stay here that this whole outpost is lightly defended, presumably because much of Zeb's men are still making a transition from Midgar. I don't know how long this will last, so the sooner we get this going the better, before more of them show up. Anyways, what's the plan?"

"We're counting on you to disable the perimeter security system to take out the cameras."

"Believe it or not, they don't have one."

"…Really?"

"Affirmative, I've checked around thoroughly. The base is more like a... look, I'll explain it all later. I've read through some very important information from the personal computer of Corneo's assistant, but there's no time to explain it. I need to get back soon before they start looking for me."

"Well, can you send us the information?"

"Negative, I don't have the equipment."

"When we infiltrate, we can send a robot to rendezvous with you so he can download anything you find and transmit it to Madison's laptop. We just finished scouting out the warehouse, we'll be ready soon. To clarify, our strategy is to split into four teams. Turks on Zeb and Corneo, AVALANCHE to liberate the prisoners. The robot will locate you, if you've still got your homing beacon."

"Luckily, I do."

"Good, you know what to do, then. Finally, the gang has agreed to cover our escape once we've secured the prisoners by engaging the compound head on, so hearing a lot of gunshots would be a good signal to get out of there."

"Okay. Wait… by the way, if that clown girl can blink in and out anywhere like nothing, couldn't she just warn the enemy of what's to come?"

"Well, it's a chance we'll have to take. We're probably not going to get another opportunity like this again. I don't know if you've noticed, but we're all starting to get a little desperate."

"True. Anyways, according to the schedule, the prisoners will be returned to the same cell by the end of the hour. I'll keep my eye on things. I'll send you a text when the prisoners are returned to the cell, that should be the right time to start."

"Alright, we'll wait for your mark. We're gonna go prepare now."

"Understood. Oh, and… Elena?" Beatrice hesitantly asked, her tone somewhat softer and caring as if she were about to say something sentimental.

There was a long quietness on the other end before her sister responded. "…Yes?"

Another awkward silence, as if Beatrice was trying to find the right words to say.

"...Try not to mess up this time."

Beatrice smirked to herself at the immediate click and dial tone.

--

Elena sighed as she flipped her cell phone closed, looking up at the faces of her fellow Turks and the remnants of AVALANCHE. During the entire phone conversation, Max had been giving a stirring, inspirational homily to his people on the other end of the spacious back alley. Yuffie, jubilant now that she was able to get back into her old AVALANCHE attire, had been listening to the leader's words, making out that Max had been a member of the original AVALANCHE led by Elfé all those years ago before it had fallen apart.

From the numerous stories she heard of the AVALANCHE of old, they were a virtual army of radical eco-terrorist insurgents who believed ShinRa had to be stopped by any means necessary, no matter who got in the way. Before their downfall, the members were said to have been an organization of extremists with aggressively hot-tempers stemming from their passionate hatred for the now-defunct company.

By the way Max had been raising his voice and pumping his fist during his pep talk--acts which received roused shouts of accord from the dozens of NMIs--the stories were apparently true. The silver-tongued leader included in his speech several allusions to the poverty and pollution many of the members faced in the slums of Midgar due to ShinRa's abuse of the Planet through their reactors that caused their miserable lives, emphasizing that if any new group like the one they were about to attack would continue to do such a practice, it was the duty of NMI to combat the threat as some form of vengeance.

Naturally, the impressionable teenagers under Max's command were enthralled by the older man's words, wholeheartedly acceding to their leader's decrees of victory or death. Yuffie and her companions approached the riled mob of street punks to initiate the offensive, having already planned how the operation would go down moments before. They made a point to be ready for everything, as with such an unpredictably surreptitious foe in the form of the female jester, Moira, they could not leave any likelihood left unwary of.

"Impressive speech." Reno remarked with his characteristic smile as he approached the gang leader alongside his compatriots, the Turks and AVALANCHE. The mob was just beginning to quiet down, still pumped and eager for action, as Reno continued to idly tap his shoulder with his baton weapon. "Are you ready?"

"We all are." Max replied in a serious tone.

"Things have had a habit of not going exactly according to plan lately," Madison stated with her hands in her pockets, "So whatever happens, we go with it as fast as physically possible. According to our spy, the warehouse isn't as defended as we originally thought, though they could have people stationed in other parts of Junon, waiting. There's also a probability that we could very well be walking into a trap, so be ready for anything."

"Don't worry about us." Max assured, his arms folded over his hulking chest. Several orbs of Materia lined his forearm brace. "We'll keep these guys busy for ya. The only thing we want outta all this is to take the fight right to those bastards head-on."

His amazingly charismatic speech about whether his people would rather concede under a murderous regime and go on to live out the rest of their lives on their knees as pitiful, mindless slaves or instead let the world know that they died fighting on their feet for what's right would become the inevitable catalyst for what was to come.

"Well, just be smart about it all." Madison advised. "This whole operation is risky. Don't go getting yourself into a big mess that strays away from the primary objectives, turning this into something it doesn't need to be right now, and that goes for everybody." At this latter declaration, she made the effort to look around the circle at all the faces staring at her--Turks, AVALANCHE, and NMI officers alike. "So, the main thing to remember is basically to get in, get out, and get the hell away. Savvy?"

Nods of agreement sent them on their way. The coalition was mobilized and the plan was set. All that was left to do was to execute it.

* * *

**Author's note: Ugh... I'm exhausted, but I wanna continue. I'm behind my personal schedule, I originally planned to be two chapters ahead by now ha. Anywho, like I mentioned before, this is an unexpected chapter. This was actually supposed to be a LOT longer, but since it was incomplete, I cut off the last two sections of this and decided to incorporate it into the next chapter (which I hope to have up probably tomorrow or by... I don't know, Wednesday?) And yeah, if you didn't catch it, the new character Cleon is supposed to look like me, the pic from my profile :P. Well the character himself is more based on my 16 year old self (who was in waaay better shape than how I've been lately) back when I was ghetto as hell and in such good shape that I was starting to develop some abs even though I didn't even do anything to work them out. :P  
**

**I include a Cleon character in all of my stories, ha. Took me forever to get this chapter out, I had to do an insane amount of thinking to make the plot make sense in a way that doesn't have any errors in continuity or plot holes. Hope it turned out alright. **


	13. Into the Breach

**Beyond Paradise II**

_Disclaimer: I do not own Yuffie, Vincent, or anything/anybody else in this fiction, they belong to Square Enix. I also don't own previously established fictitious characters such as Moira, Zeb, or Jethro. They were created by the original fan fic's author, tolerant. This is not an "official" sequel by the original author, more like a tribute by me since the original has been discontinued, unfortunately. I am not affiliated with tolerant in any way, shape, or form (other than being a fan, of course)._

**Author's note: Words go here.**

**

* * *

**_  
Dealing out the agony within__  
Charging hard and no one's gonna give in  
Living on your knees, conformity  
Or dying on your feet for honesty  
Inbred, our bodies work as one  
Bloody, but never cry submission  
Following our instinct, not a trend  
Go against the grain until the end_

_Damage, Inc.  
--James Hetfield_

- **Chapter 23: Into the Breach**

Havern walked around the dark storage room, vigilant for any signs of the young, white-haired rebel leader. She followed the sound of an ambient buzzing that seemed to be emanating from further into the room. She navigated around the maze of stacked crates and filled shelves until she found Zeb seated quietly in front of a pair of glowing tanks laid on the floor before him.

"Ugh, finally… There you are, Mr. Mahonney!"

Without hesitation, he swiftly turned his head halfway to where the voice came from, his bangs swinging in reaction. "Yes?" He snapped, his voice giving off a mix of annoyance and fatigue. "What is it?"

Havern blinked, clearly not expecting such a mood from the rebel leader. She had overheard the rumors whispered among his men in the halls about a suspected insanity growing in the white-haired man. With a sigh, she proceeded to discuss with him what she was sent to talk about, neither of the two noticing the faint smiling glint of green, blue and white eavesdropping in the corner behind the preservation tanks of Mako.

"There has been a problem, sir." She started, her arms folded under her bust. "According to one of my men from our munitions depot, the documents I've recorded that he was supposed to return to me were apparently stolen somehow. He has no idea how it happened."

"And this concerns me, how?" Zeb asked as he slowly stood up and turned around to face Havern, an exasperation in his tone expressed at the woman who had disturbed his 'quiet time' with his 'family.'

"Anything that concerns any of us here includes you in it's consequences, Mr. Mahonney." the secretary answered as calm as she could, more or less hiding the impatience that boiled within her. "I was sent here by Mr. Corneo to inquire about your thoughts."

"What could I possibly have to say on this matter, Miss Glaire?"

"…Well, we have reason to believe that if the documents were indeed stolen that maybe the Turks have something to do with it, though we can not be sure yet. Perhaps your puppet has seen something, sir. May I request--"

"It's gone."

Save for the electrical hum emanating from the Mako tanks, there was a lengthy period of silence after Zeb's immediate response as the bewildered secretary gradually accepted what had just been said.

"…Sir?" Havern inquired as she tilted her head to the side, her eyes thinned in disbelief. "Do you mean…"

"That jester doll is gone. To where, only the Planet knows. It has been two days since I have seen or heard from it."

"…No disrespect intended, sir, but just when the _hell _did you plan to tell Corneo and I about this?"

"Humph…" scoffed the silver-haired young man as he slowly turned around and sat back down on his chair, crossing one leg over the other. "It must have… slipped my mind…"

"This is an extremely dangerous security risk, Mr. Mahonney. The vast potential of that Moira doll's capabilities have yet to be realized and can be extraordinarily devastating if she has truly gone rogue."

"There is nothing you or I can do about this, Miss Glaire. Absolutely nothing. Consult the board."

Havern glared at the back of the rebel leader's head, frustrated at such a detached attitude to a situation as serious as this. As perturbed as she was, she had to admit he was correct in that there was nothing anybody here could do about her. Before Havern could continue, she spun around once she caught wind of the distant, muffled sound of mass gunfire.

"_Miss Glaire!" _a voice crackled through the secretary's earpiece. _"Miss Glaire, are you there?! We're under attack! I repeat, we are under attack!"_

"Calm down. This is Glaire, who is attacking us?"

"_We don't know, ma'am… but the squad leaders inform me that we're experiencing heavy opposition on all sides of the warehouse. It appears to be a large, coordinated assault and…"_

"Ugh…" she sighed laboriously in annoyance over the man's sentence before he could finish, effectively shutting him up. "Say no more, I am on my way."

_--_

"We're in!" Reno's voice crackled over the assault frequency, broadcasting to whomever had a radio on their side of the conflict.

Madison, Elena, Rude, Reno, Vincent, Yuffie, and Cait Sith dashed into the breach, stances ready for combat. As the dust from Rude's explosive charge settled, they found that the white-tiled hallway was completely empty.

"Show time, folks!" Cait Sith exclaimed while pumping his fist in the air.

"Okay, everyone." Madison started as she pulled out her set of blades, a throwing knife in-between each of her fingers. "Things haven't gone according to plan so far, but it's still a get in, get out raid--" Her order was interrupted as Vincent fired his Outsider pistol at a pair of unlucky armed guards that blindly ran into the room, unaware of the intruder's presence. "…You get the idea, fast as you can! Go, go, go!"

With that, the teams split up and went their separate ways towards their own objectives as the conflict outside raged on.

_--_

"There he goes!" Reno pointed at the fleeing Corneo further down the hall.

The Don gasped as he took a glimpse back upon hearing the red-haired Turk's outcry. With a whimper, he burst into an awkward run, sloppy in modus due to his large size.

"Hmph." Rude scoffed.

"Damn." Reno cursed while glancing at Rude. "Probably shouldn't have shouted like that, huh?" The two broke into a sprint to catch up with the obese don. "Hey, come back! We just wanna finish what we started back up in Wutai, yo!"

Corneo huffed as he turned the corner, fearing for his life. The two Turks found amusement in this, viewing his clumsy, sluggish run as a pitiful excuse for an attempted escape.

"This is Rude and Reno," the bald Turk spoke into his earpiece. "We've spotted Don Corneo and we're in pursuit."

"Understood." Elena's voice replied over the radio. With Don Corneo spotted by their male counterparts, Elena and Madison would focus their sights on finding the whereabouts of the rebel leader Zeb Mahonney. "Good luck."

The corpulent don took a quick look over his shoulder just in time to see the two Turks round the corner, their expeditious pace rapidly closing the gap. Corneo's sweat intensified upon making out the solemn expression from the sunglassed bald man and the playful sneer in the red-head's face. Panting heavily, Don Corneo ran through the door at the end of the hall with the duo in hot pursuit. They followed him into the large room, the storage facility of the warehouse. Looking around the auditorium-sized space, Corneo finally slowed down to a stop in the middle of the open floor and leaned down with his hands on his knees to catch his breath.

"Game over, fat man." Rude quipped as they stopped a few yards behind him.

"Just give it up, yo." Reno added with a sly smirk while tapping his shoulder with his Electro-Mag Rod.

After a few moments of gasping for air, Corneo turned his head to look up at his two foes and very slowly gave his adversaries a scornful smile. The two Turks winced, clearly not anticipating such conduct from a defenseless fat bastard with no hope that was supposed to be pleading pathetically to save his own skin.

"Wha..." Rude trailed off in wonder as he turned to his confused partner, who merely just shrugged his shoulders.

"Tell me..." Don Corneo spoke up, prompting the two Turks to look back at him. "Did you ever hear that saying about the old, cornered tiger sensing his end? I'm sure it applies here, as well." Rude and Reno merely thinned their eyes and traded a puzzled expression before the obese man continued. "No? Well then... what does an old tiger like me do when he gets surrounded and senses the end is near? Does he beg for his life? Does he close his eyes in acceptance and wait for the inevitable? Or does he... do the heroic thing and go down fighting his fiercest...?"

The pair of uniformed men blinked, their senses peaked for anything suspicious. The last time Corneo had said something like this to them, Elena was captured from right under their noses. Despite such a delicate situation, the now-irascible red-haired Turk was in no mood to be played with and, with forethought nonexistent, elected to grudgingly humor him to get things over with.

"Lemme guess..." Reno started in a voice rife with sarcasm. "They go down fighting?"

"No... they're all wrong." Corneo said calmly as he stood up and fixed his ruffled hair. The two Turks then recoiled in surprise when an earth-shaking thud sounded behind them. The corpulent don simply smirked and readjusted the lapel of his flamboyant jacket. "The correct answer is--they get someone else to fight for them."

Reno and Rude slowly turned their heads to face each other, noting the foreboding mien of expectant fear painted across the other's face. Even though every single fiber of their being screamed against doing so, they knew deep down inside that they had to turn around and look. With an echelon of reluctance reaching a plateau they never even thought possible, they sluggishly spun their bodies to face their titanic foe.

With his gaze held high, Rude widened his shaded eyes as his jaw dropped in awe. "…Oh no."

The two Turks desperately dove to their sides as a gigantic metallic leg crashed down in-between them, trembling the very ground with the force of such an impact. The leg ascended with a mechanical whir, leaving a shallow crater with cracks all around. Reno and Rude rolled back to their feet on opposite ends of the large warehouse room and stared down the enormous robot. It looked like some sort of nightmarish arachnid even though it only had six legs.

"Where the hell did this thing come from?!" Reno growled as he loosened his knees, ready to react to whatever the mechanized colossus would do next. "It's like the size of a double-decker bus!"

"Play nice, boys!" Corneo called out mockingly before bumbling his way to the only other door in the cavernous room.

"What is this, 'Cheesy One-Liners Day?' Rude, stop him!"

With that, Rude pulled out a pistol from under his lapel, took aim, and fired a round into the back of Corneo's left thigh. Corneo cursed out in a falsetto shrill as he stumbled to a skidding stop with his already-bruised face, mere feet away from the closed iron egress. The sniveling don began to drag himself towards the doorway, but spat out in frustrated indignation when another series of shots rang out and the shelf above his only escape route collapsed down, blocking out the whole exit with heavy crates and boxes.

"Damn, damn, damn it all to hell!" the bandaged don whined while pounding his fists into the cement floor in succession.

Corneo groaned in pain as he clumsily spun his body around to see the malicious jeers on his enemies' faces.

"Yeah!" Reno victoriously declared as he gave a nod of recognition to his partner before brandishing his electrified baton at the metallic monstrosity before them.

Don Corneo began looking around for another possible escape route, but the only others were the one far across the room where he had entered from and the sliding metallic shutter that led out to the loading bay. He gave a defeated sigh, knowing that both were quite out of his reach, as well as in the way of both Turks. His only chance now was for his robotic pet to permanently deal with his pursuers before any more enemies could show up.

"What do we do?!" Rude yelled to his partner half-way across the room while keeping his handgun fixed on the standing colossuss, which appeared to be waiting for them to do something as well.

"What're ya lookin' at me for?!"

"I dunno! You tell me, 'Senior Turk!'"

"Argh, whatever! C'mon, let's just attack this thing!"

Reno took out a grenade, pulled the pin, and lobbed it at the behemoth while Rude opened fire on it's side. Ignoring the bullets that simply ricocheted off it's iron hull, the mechanical spider smacked the explosive away, effectively deflecting it right back at the stupefied red-haired Turk.

"Oh shit!!" Reno barked as he ran forward and dove.

Halfway through his leap, the grenade detonated and the force sent the screaming Turk flying across the room right beside the lying, injured don. Reno barred his teeth and groaned in pain as he pushed himself up with his arms and rested on his knees. He cracked his neck from side to side before he opened his eyes and realized he was seated right beside his prey. Corneo widened his brown hues in feared panic and proceeded to crawl away from Reno, but the red-haired Turk grabbed him by the ankle and pulled him back towards him.

"Stay put!" Reno snarled before punching Don Corneo right in the face, knocking him out. He leapt back up to his feet and glared at the robotic arachnid, who was vainly jabbing at an evasive Rude with its front legs, and charged towards the beast. "Bastaaard!!"

--

Vincent peaked around the corner of the hallway, Death Penalty in hand, and motioned his head for Yuffie to follow him. They broke into a run, feeling the quickened pace was necessary due to the distant tumults of the firefights getting closer and louder. It appeared as if the battle was inevitably spilling into the rest of the building, something which could hamper the entire rescue should they get caught up amidst a skirmish.

"Okay," Yuffie started while looking into the screen of the gadget she held in her hands, "They should be in the room after this one right here."

The duo stopped outside the closed ingress, weapons at the ready. With a mutual nod of preparedness, Vincent kicked in the door and rushed into the large empty room with his rifle aimed.

"Don't move!" Yuffie commanded as she dashed up beside the caped gunslinger, her Conformer raised to attack.

Behind the desk was a secretary-looking woman with glasses dressed in grey business attire and an armed man with a lit cigarette in his mouth, presumably the skirted lady's bodyguard. One hand was on the forearm grip of his automatic rifle and the other's fingers were pinching the rim of his half-finished stick of tobacco. Inhaled smoke was slowly drifting out from the tiny opening of his mouth as the frozen guard looked on the pair of AVALANCHE members with eyes swelled from shock. Caught completely by surprise, their attackers seemed to have luckily barged in mid-puff.

"Drop your weapon!!" the little ninja shouted with surprising authority, her Conformer ready to be flung should the guard try anything.

Instead, he redirected his gaze to the ebony-skinned woman beside him as if asking her whether or not he should comply. His timorously befuddled attitude towards the compromising situation at hand was a blatant antithesis to the lady's cool-headed, almost wicked composure. Her brows were lowered over her thinned eyes, glaring angrily at the cloaked gunman and Wutaian teenager as if they would burst into flames at her will. When the duo refused to burn at her command, she finally glanced to the guard and gave a quick, diminutive nod of accordance.

The guard turned back to the two, carefully placed his carbine on the floor in front of him and then raised his arms in surrender as he pushed the rifle towards them with his foot. The gun slid across the concrete surface with a scratching hiss and stopped a few inches away from Vincent's pointy boot. With his Death Penalty still firmly trained on their two detainees, Vincent crouched down and picked up the yielded firearm while Yuffie scurried up to them.

"Where's Cloud and Tifa?" she demanded while briskly patting both their waists, legs and torsos with her free hand, though with unscrupulousness due to accepting her notion that their tight clothing would not give much room for properly concealed weaponry.

"…I-in there." the guard stuttered while gesturing to the only other door in the room with a twitch from his head, prompting the Wutaian girl to take a quick glance at it while she continued with the inspection.

He sensed rage perforating straight through him and he shot his gaze to the secretary standing beside him. She was staring back with penetrating lividity, an infuriated mien that he construed as a nonverbal reprimand for his treacherous cowardice. He awkwardly looked away as if he were apologizing for doing such a thing. Once finishing the pat-down, Yuffie stood erect and glared at the cigarette dangling from the guard's lips. After a couple of seconds, she suddenly snatched the tobacco from his mouth.

"These are bad for you!" she scolded while shaking the cancer stick in front of his confused face.

She tossed it away, then looked over her shoulder at her caped companion. With little hesitation, Vincent gave her a nod and started for the aforementioned door as his younger compatriot proceeded to knock out their two submitted enemies as a humane, non-lethal form of incapacitation. Probably due to the acoustics of the room, Vincent heard a reverberant smack echo behind him, followed by the pained grunt of the guard and the subsequent thud of his body falling to the floor. Before he could get halfway to the egress, he froze in place once hearing the second strike, which was noticeably louder than the first.

But it wasn't the whack that caused him to halt. It was the sound of Yuffie's girlish yelp.

"Yuffie!" Before he could fully whirl around to see what had happened, the little ninja flew across his field of vision and hit the wall in front of him hard with her back.

She landed flat on her behind with a grunt, her arms at her sides and her head loosely hanging low.

"Ow…" Yuffie mumbled somewhat comically, her way of announcing that she would be alright.

…_No… _Vincent thought for a split second with his eyes thinned at the slowly rising princess as to whom the attacker could have been. _…It couldn't be…_

He finally swerved around and was ready to fire his weapon, but the next thing he knew he was falling to the floor due to having been immediately tackled. Vincent widened his eyes in surprise to see that the skinny secretary was over him.

"Why…?" she growled with malice in her voice. "…Why don't you people ever stay DEAD?!"

The first thing Vincent noticed was that her grip weighted down on his neck with unnatural strength. The second thing was that her eyeglasses were crookedly disheveled, presumably from when she sent the little ninja flying with such force. As if noticing his observation, she took off her bifocals with her free hand and simply crushed them with a clenched fist.

…_What the hell? _Vincent thought to himself while he stared into her furious hues. He didn't notice before, but now that she was in such close proximity, the gunslinger saw that her eyes were surprisingly bright blue. She raised her arm to her side and a long retractable blade popped out below her wrist from under her sleeve. When the realization popped into his mind, he almost didn't believe it at first. "…SOLDIER?"

The rhetorical inquiry left his lips in quiet earnest and she brought the sharpened steel down. Before the lethal tip could meet his chest, Vincent stopped the blade by clamping the flat edges with his metallic claw. He quickly bent the thin weapon in half and flipped the secretary over him at the door with such force that she crashed through the iron ingress into the next room, breaking the door off it's hinges. He immediately sprang back up to his feet, spun around with his unholstered Outsider revolver, and instinctively opened fire on the female SOLDIER. Frustratingly, she swiftly darted to the side further into the room out of Vincent's sight, effectively leaving the kill zone.

"Vincent!" Yuffie called out to him before he broke off into a run to pursue.

She tossed him his Death Penalty, which had been knocked across the room when Vincent was tackled. He grabbed it and took off into the next room with his rifle raised, but saw she was missing.

"Vincent?!" The gunslinger turned halfway back and saw Tifa pressed up against the bars of a tiny cell some distance behind him. The relief and joy that filled her face was abruptly superseded with a foreboding apprehension once she frantically pointed behind him. "Look out!!"

Vincent quickly spun and instinctively ducked by arching backwards, barely missing the attack. The sideways swipe was subsequently followed-up with a horizontal slash that he had to roll backwards to avoid. He got back on his feet and recognized that the secretary was now wielding a Flying Sickle, the standard broadsword issued to SOLDIERs below the rank of 1st class, though she was much more agile than any 2nd or 3rd he'd ever encountered. He neglected to theorize precisely where she could have gotten this weapon due to the fact that she was trying to kill him with it as a more pressing matter at hand. After he fired a barrage at her once again, the deflected bullets ricocheting everywhere with wayward abandon, he noticed Yuffie skid into the room.

"Yuffie!" he shouted while continuing his onslaught. "Free Tifa!"

His shots trailed the expeditious SOLDIER as she dashed from side to side in an inhuman blur. With their extraordinary foe kept busy, the little ninja rushed towards the cell as fast as she could.

"Oh my GAWD!!" Yuffie shouted in overjoyed astonishment before running up and gripping the sturdy bars. "Tifa, I can't believe it!!"

"I'm so glad to see you, Yuffie! Are you alright?"

"Duh! Otherwise I wouldn't be here in the middle of this freakin' war zone trying to rescue you guys!" Upon saying that, she finally became aware of the crackles of the firefights she failed to realize before due to being preoccupied with the earlier scene. They no longer sounded distant, but much closer in propinquity. "We should save this all for later. Where's the keys for this thing?"

"This one guard had it…"

"Oh wow, that narrows it down!!"

"Umm…" Tifa squinted her eyes and looked took her side, thinking hard for a more specific description. "…Wait! He's always smoking a--"

"Cigarette?!"

"Yeah!"

"I'll be right back, okay?" With that, Yuffie sprinted back into the previous room as fast as her legs could take her, taking only a quick glance to the acrobatic clash between Vincent and the female SOLDIER.

She quickly ran into the previous room where she then spotted the guard she had knocked out still unconscious on the floor. Without hesitation, she dashed right up to the lying man and immediately began patting the folds and pockets of his clothing until she found a small ring of various keys dangling from the back of his belt. She impatiently unhooked the ring and started back for the cell, but before she could get within a few yards of the egress, a loud reverberation that resembled the droning hum of an airplane taking off thundered outside the open door that led out to the hall she and Vincent first came from. Yuffie shot her head towards the noise just in time to hear an unearthly explosion subsequently followed by the sight of a man flying past the doorway covered in the greenish electrical remnants of the smoky blast.

The Materia-obsessed princess immediately recognized the occurrence as the mysterious gravitational spell, Demi. More gunshots resonated from the corridor outside, which were just as zealously returned by with a vicious plethora of the elements, before the chaos inevitably found its way into the very room the little ninja was standing just moments before. Knowing better, Yuffie had already fled for her destination instead of sticking around like an ignorant fool to see what would happen next.

"Got it!" Yuffie announced triumphantly before stopping at the lock of the cell. She began fumbling with the ring, testing out the several different keys in the hole as fast as she could, knowing that time was a precious commodity. While fiddling with the keys, she glanced in the cell and finally realized that Tifa was alone. "...Hey, where's Cloud?!"

**

* * *

  
Author's note: GRR! I was stuck in Vegas all weekend with no internet connection. Plus, it took me like 5 straight days of writing to get this loooong chapter up (which ended up being broken up into this chapter and the next chapter 24)… interesting… Anyways, this chapter was almost done for the longest time now, but for some reason I was so lazy in finishing the last few paragraphs. I'll get started on the next chapter in a couple of days. I'll have a lot of free time for the next couple of months, so I hope to have Beyond Paradise finally concluded within this time period… I'm actually excited ha.**


	14. Prison Break

**Beyond Paradise II**

_Disclaimer: I do not own Yuffie, Vincent, or anything/anybody else in this fiction, they belong to Square Enix. I also don't own previously established fictitious characters such as Moira, Zeb, or Jethro. They were created by the original fan fic's author, tolerant. This is not an "official" sequel by the original author, more like a tribute by me since the original has been discontinued, unfortunately. I am not affiliated with tolerant in any way, shape, or form (other than being a fan, of course)._

**Author's note: Sigh...**

* * *

_I rule the midnight air  
The destroyer  
I shall soon be there  
Deadly mass  
I creep the steps and floor  
Final darkness  
Lamb's blood painted door  
I shall pass_

_Creeping Death  
__--James Hetfield_

- **Chapter 24: Prison Break**

The little ninja's frantic inquiry and subsequent panicked gesticulations were a stark contrast to Tifa's relaxed reply in an attempt to settle her younger comrade.

"Yuffie, calm down... I have no idea. They took him away a few hours ago. Us and Jethro were placed in this same cell but we were all eventually separated."

Before their conversation could continue, a sudden screech of terror caught their attention and the duo redirected their gazes to the door of the room where the new battle was raging. It appeared that a woman had been trying to escape the clutches of some sort of deformed monstrosity. The wretch was a human-sized, parasitic-looking beast that Tifa recalled encountering back in the old ShinRa Headquarters after Jenova had run amok in the building. It appeared as if the fiend was under the control of their enemies, unfortunately.

The victim being attacked was with NMI, and was being continuously punctured by her assailant's several tentacles in a horrifying manner. Luckily for the girl, the monster was forcefully kicked off of her by a fellow Mage before further damage could be done. As the bleeding young woman was tended to by her comrade, Yuffie finally used the correct key and practically threw the cell door off of its hinges to greet her long-lost friend with open arms. The two sole female members of AVALANCHE embraced one another whole-heartedly, the younger leaping up and clinging onto the raven-haired martial artist like a child would to her mother.

Quite frankly, Tifa was somewhat surprised at such jubilation displayed by the little ninja, unaware of the hidden depression the emotionally vulnerable young teenager felt during the last week for losing the only people in her life she considered her friends in an almost sequential period of time. Yuffie's inner turmoil stemmed from an ominous uncertainty for a hazily ambiguous future, a heart-crushing pessimism that first eked out it's ugly head with the devastating, untimely murder of Aerith Gainsborough and snowballed in mass upon the simultaneous incapacitations of Barret Wallace, Reeve Tuesti, and Nanaki of Cosmo Canyon. Tifa's bewilderment did not hamper such a tender moment, though, and she returned such unconditional affection with just as much genuine enthusiasm.

The fool's hope Yuffie persevered with that even the little ninja sometimes found herself questioning was finally beginning to pay off with their reunion, a sliver of optimism that the Wutaian princess anticipated would hold her over for the rest of the journey down the sure-to-be long road to ultimately ending this entire ordeal. A stray bullet ricocheted off the wall mere inches away from the hugging couple and they immediately returned their minds to join their bodies back in the situation at hand. Tifa dropped Yuffie back down to her feet and they both analyzed the scene before them.

The very room they both stood in had broken out into pandemonium. The vicinity was now filled with brutal melees between the rebel affiliates and NMI gang members. Their firearms either destroyed or spent, the warehouse guards were forced to engage the blue-tinted raiders in hand-to-hand combat, the fight having broken up into various small duels of personal strength that probably encompassed the entire building. With the hormone-driven Junon punks being so innately adept in brawling through months of trial-and-error first-hand experience on the city streets against rival gangs, they were naturally gaining the upper hand and were slowly but surely besting their opponents.

"Who's who?" Tifa inquired, unsure of the allegiance of the parties involved.

"Well..." Yuffie started, raising an awkward finger at the seemingly blood-thirsty members of Norté Magus, Incorporated. "The guys dressed with a lotta blue are with this gang that we got on our side..."

"How did you manage that?"

"Well, turns out Rude had a cousin in this gang and--"

"Wait, what? Rude? As in, Rude of the Turks?!"

"Well, technically they're not Turks anymore..."

"I can't believe this..." Tifa sighed while running a hand through her hair due to hearing such unexpected news. Honestly, she was still sour at the Turks for everything they had done, particularly the whole Sector 7 catastrophe they were responsible for that needlessly claimed the lives of hundreds of innocent people. "What's next? You going to tell me that Sephiroth's waiting outside for us in an escape car?"

"I don't blame you for feeling that way. Imagine how I felt when they first showed up! Hey, maybe we can save this for later, yeah?"

"Hmm." Tifa nodded in accord. "C'mon, we still gotta find Cloud and get outta here."

"Wait, where's Vincent?!" With that, the two female AVALANCHE members waded through the mayhem until they saw Vincent at the farthest end of the room still clashed in his duel with the blade-wielding secretary.

Vincent rapidly fired his long rifle at the evasive SOLDIER, who dodged and deflected each shot. Once Vincent temporarily ceased his bombardment to reload, the secretary seized the opportunity and dashed up to the gunslinger to deliver her own payload of lightning-fast attacks, a series of vertical and horizontal swipes that flowed in a succeeding, rapid cadence. Vincent twisted and turned, narrowly avoiding each and every superhuman cut until he was forced to hold up his Death Penalty to halt an energized downwards slash, effectively locking the two of them in a face-to-face, shaking stalemate.

The female SOLDIER took a glance to her side at her rival's reinforcements, Tifa and Yuffie. They were approaching fast, so with a final glower at the caped marksman, she took a quick jab at his face which distracted him just enough for her to reset her Flying Sickle's position and instantaneously follow-through with a final, empowered uppercut that split his trusted long rifle in half. The last thing the secretary saw of her adversary was the awe of disbelief in his eyes before she kicked him away with her high heel and made her escape by spinning round and cutting through the concrete wall behind her. She dropped some sort of flash-bang and disappeared into the hallway from sight.

Unaffected by the blinding flare, Vincent sighed in disappointment at the two pieces of his once-dependable long rifle he held in either hand. He placed the remnants of his weapon on the floor, knowing that there would be no time to repair it, nor could he bear the burden of carrying his destroyed weapon around in such a hostile, mobility-dependent environment. Reliability aside, the Death Penalty had been gifted to him by Lucrecia Crescent of all people, but those were all compunctions he would have to chastise himself for later.

"Are you okay?" Tifa asked the gunslinger as she ran up with Yuffie.

Their eyes were squinted, still recovering from the flash. Vincent stood and silently nodded after he quickly scanned both of his comrades for any signs of injury.

"Who was that?" Yuffie inquired of the swordswoman.

"No idea." Vincent responded. "But with our luck the way it's been lately, I doubt that's the last we're going to see of her."

--

"Gah! Ow! Urgh! Waaaaaagh…! Oof!"

"…I take it you're Cait Sith?"

Cait Sith slowly looked up at a pair of legs, his vision still blurry due to the long drop from the ceiling air vent above. He raised his gaze higher as it began to recalibrate and made out the figure of a blonde woman.

"That's right, lass!" he replied, jumping up. "Beatrice the spy, I presume?"

"Correct." She answered back in a serious demeanor while walking up to a console. "Come on, the computer's right here and we don't have much time."

"Leave it to me!" he said while jumping up on the stool.

The robotic feline unwound a thin cable out from his wrist, plugged it into the USB port of the laptop, and began to download the pages he manually browsed through using the keyboard.

"Any trouble?" Beatrice asked with her hands in her pocket.

"Nope, I should be finished in a few minutes. There seems to be a lot of documents, most of which are irrelevant and useless that I have to filter out. Did you find anything out yourself?"

"Well, from what I've overheard from Don Corneo's secretary, Havern Glaire, is that they're basically trying to rebuild ShinRa. They've got some sort of board or committee of surviving executives or totally new people set up somewhere that's apparently in charge of this whole operation."

"Any possible motives?"

"My guess is that's its for the money. They seem to have continued the search for the fabled Promised Land the old company started, which would make sense because this place is supposed to be made of pure Mako or have infinite deposits of it, right?"

"So the legend goes."

"They must really believe in it to go the these lengths, given what Cetra lore contains. I kept overhearing people around here refer to how they've hired some people to… 'relocate something.'"

"Any clue as to what this 'something' is?"

"No idea. It seems to be top secret because of how ignorantly Glaire and Corneo spoke of it. Zeb Mahonney appears to be the only one who knows about all this."

"According to this, Zeb's the one who hired the hunters you mentioned."

"Does that say what they're searching for?"

"Sorry, but no. The topic is marked as 'classified.' Hmm, sounds like Zeb is up to something that the others don't know about."

"It's interesting… well, he does outrank the other two."

"Outrank?"

"Yes, from what I have eavesdropped, Mahonney, Corneo, and Glaire are like, officers or overseers in this whole operation. I think this warehouse is supposed to be some sort of impermanent installation, which would explain the lack of an automated security system. They probably never expected people like us to get on their asses, y'know?"

"Hmm, that makes sense. This file tells me that this place is just an outpost that houses the troops who watch over the underground Mako Reactor here in Junon. In relation, the Midgar rebel base was established to oversee those eight reactors, and the one near Costa del Sol… well yes, you get the idea."

"Now that I think about it, the reactors being reactivated makes sense for them to find this Promised Land of Mako."

"What are you thinking?"

"Extensive tests showed that ever since Meteorfall, the flow of the Lifestream changed and all the reactors around the Planet, which were established over Mako wells, can no longer access the Lifestream since it moved."

"And yet they can produce just enough Mako to create portable generators to sell."

"Right, meaning there's probably a very small and limited reservoir of residue or remnants underneath each reactor that was left over when the Lifestream changed it's flow. It's obviously not going to last, which would establish a good motive for finding the Promised Land just to access the infinite Mako. Perhaps Mahonney's mercenaries are looking for this Promised Land."

"It doesn't seem likely. Jethro told us that Zeb wants to somehow bring back Jenova to reunite with his family."

"What? That doesn't make any sense."

"Tell me about it. He's gone insane, y'know."

"Oh, that explains it. Then it sounds like he's exploiting the assistance from Neo-ShinRa to meet his own ends."

"He's looking for Paradise, they're looking for the Promised Land…"

"How's it all coming along?"

"I've got a long way to go, but for safety I'll send what information I've obtained so far to Madison's laptop." He then froze for a few seconds until a brief, digitalized tone rang. "Okay, finished. Now I'll move on to the next batch of info. A bit of good news--what I've just sent is enough incriminating evidence to show everybody that's part of the anti-AVALANCHE group the truth behind their leader! When everyone finds out they've been following an organization of Neo-ShinRa aspirers, AVALANCHE should finally be off the hook!

"Oh wait," Cait Sith paused while continuing to type, "Here's something--a ranking structure of some kind. Zeb's in charge of the Midgar base, Corneo of Costa del Sol, and Havern Glaire, in addition to being Corneo's subordinate, spearheads this Junon garrison. Judging by her knowledge of everything, Glaire looks like she's some sort of archivist within this organization. I'm guessing Zeb, Corneo, and Glaire are like regional bosses, and whoever is really in charge of everything are in Modeoheim, though there's not much information on them.

"Hmm…" the animatronic cat continued. "We have names for Zeb's mercenaries. There's three of them--Yazoo, Kadaj, and Loz. He supplied and financed this trio with equipment and weaponry." He froze momentarily before he widened in shock the eyes that he didn't have. "Good heavens! This document right here details everything! A couple more minutes and I'll send this next batch! Hopefully everybody else is having as much luck as we are, right?" He waited for an answer, but all he could hear was the muffled sounds of distant battle and the clicking of his rapid typing. "…Beatrice?"

He stopped and looked behind him to see she was not there. He jumped down from the seat and took a couple of steps forward, ever vigilant for any sign of the blonde Turk or something that would indicate there was trouble. He was so wholly engrossed in surveying the area that he never knew what hit him. After the sound of a slash from a sword, the very last thing the little robotic feline ever saw was his artificial vision suddenly split right down the middle with his sight speedily hazing in a static fuzz. The sides detached to opposite ends before everything faded to black forever.

--

Madison kicked the first guard in the shin and immediately threw a knife into the chest of the second guard several feet away. As he fell down while screaming in agony, the female Turk pulled out another blade in an underhand grip and uppercut-slashed the first sentry on his chest with her right hand. She concurrently performed a clockwise spin into a reverse grip and lacerated her foe across the midsection with her left hand. Finally, she reverted into a classical grip and thrust the tip deep into his stomach. She let go of her victim, who fell limplessly to the floor, and finished by kicking the writhing second guard in the neck without so much as a look.

She paused as if to listen for further danger, but the sound of distant firefights muffled by layers of parallel concrete prompted her to enter the door the two sentinels were watching over. Elena rushed up with her gun and gave her partner a nod. Madison kicked the door inwards and they both rushed into the tiny room. Probably no bigger than the size of a hotel lavatory, the first thing that caught their eye was the blonde-haired leader of AVALANCHE sleeping peacefully in a bed to their right. The two female Turks looked at each other and blinked. They turned their heads back at the sleeping man, a long period of mutual silence dominating the scene as they pondered what they should do.

"…Go wake him." Madison whispered while she nudged her younger colleague.

"No way! He doesn't know we're on his side. Last thing I need is for me to tap him on his shoulder and have his first instinct to rip my heart out of my chest!"

"Well… okay." For the first time, Madison herself seemed nervous. She took a sigh and thought that maybe calling out to him while keeping a safe distance would work. "Hey! Hey, wake up!"

"Strife! We're here to help! Wake up, we need to get out of here!"

"...Throw something at him."

"What? _You _throw something at him!"

"Okay, fine." the sable-haired Turk conceded while looking around. She bent down and picked up a large pebble off the floor and lightly tossed it at the blonde swordsman. It hit his temple with a light tap, but he remained unstirred. "…Goddammit."

"Okay, this is ridiculous, we're wasting precious time here. Let's just go up to him and wake him up, alright?"

"Alright."

There was long period of silence as the two Turks remained still.

"...Alright, for real this time, okay?"

"Right."

There was another lengthy pause. Before they could do anything else, a blast reverberated from the external hallway, followed shortly thereafter by a man screaming, his shriek in approaching crescendo as if he had been thrown through the air. After hearing what sounded like a body hit the exterior wall outside the room, the two women shot their heads out the doorway and saw an NMI writhing on the ground next to the guards the two female Turks took out just a few moments before. A massive gash ran along his waist up to his shoulder and he was bleeding profusely from such a deep mortal wound. A roar of elemental fire then screeched around the corner and was cut off by what sounded like a blade puncturing flesh.

"Something…" Elena started in a low voice while slowly looking over to Madison. "Something bad is coming. Come on!"

They ran across the corridor and ducked into the opposite doorway, another one of the useless, empty rooms that seemed to make up most of the vicinity. They heard the clacking of high-heeled shoes amble down towards the squirming Mage. The corridor split into a three-way intersection and the two female Turks were positioned in a way that they could not see the mysterious foe standing before the half-dead gang member, save for the person's shadow.

Despite his odds, the dying Mage raised his hand with a strained grunt. The Materia on his gauntlet began to glow as he attempted to attack his foe. He was adamant in finishing the fight one way or the other, but after having lost so much precious plasma, his arm limped and dropped weakly to the ground before he could perform his final chance for a retaliatory strike. He panted heavily, his breath gurgling from all the blood that was probably obstructing his throat, but he continued to glare daggers at the adversary before him.

The shadow loomed silently over the helpless man for a few more tense seconds before the two Turks heard their unseen enemy scoff in amusement. The clattering of the high heels resumed again and the ebony-skinned woman sauntered past the mortally-wounded young man, finally coming into view. The Turks peaked through the tiny opening they creaked in the door and saw that she was dressed in formal business attire and had an oversized double-edged sword tied to her back with a makeshift strap. She entered the room where Cloud was and walked out with the unconscious blonde leader in her arms. She disappeared down the hall and the two Turks stopped holding their breath.

"Hey…" started Elena. "You don't think… he was spirited away, too?"

"I'm a little more concerned by why she didn't attack us."

"Huh?"

"She knew we were here. Yet, she did nothing."

"_Hey!" _They heard a voice broadcast over their combat frequency, probably one of the NMI members. "_The warehouse guard guys are retreating! They just stopped shooting and ran off."_

Madison thinned her eyes as a thought crossed her mind, finally widening them in surprise as she spoke into her earpiece. "This is Madison of the Turks. Everybody get out of the warehouse now, there's most likely a bomb in the building."

--

"…_There's most likely a bomb in the building."_

"You heard her!" Rude shouted out to Reno. "We gotta finish this _now!_"

The gigantic arachnid before them was heavily damaged, but as lethal as ever. It was now stampeding randomly around the room, knocking over the towering shelves and spilling their contents all over the floor in it's attempt to weed out the hiding Turks.

"Easier said than done!" Reno called back after jumping out of the way of a falling barrel of green paint. "How do we kill this thing?!"

Rude grunted, unable to think of an answer. While under pressure, he desperately scanned every nook and cranny of his location and every inch of their damaged titanic foe, trying to formulate some sort of strategy. By chance, he caught sight of a little waterfall of rubble crumble down from the ceiling above. The debris fell due to the metallic monstrosity's sporadic, earth-quaking thrashing. A significant amount of dirt blanketed the top of the mechanized spider, much of which found it's way into the iron exhaust pipes protruding from it's roof. The gigantic beast faltered and momentarily convulsed as it appeared to filter out the obstruction in it's twin chimneys, giving the bald Turk the hint he needed.

"Reno! The pipes!"

"What?"

"The pipes on it's head! They're the weak spots, throw one of your grenades in there!"

"I can't, I'm out!"

"Damn… cover me, I'm goin' in!"

Reno finally pulled out his gun and precipitously fired at the colossus's side to gain it's attention. As it turned to launch another wave of it's acidic streams at him, Rude took his chance and leaped off the low shelf he had already climbed on top of, reaching about halfway up of the motorized monster. He almost lost his grip, but he immediately pulled himself up and swiftly climbed to the top of the beast where he stuffed his last grenade into the elongated tube.

He heard the explosive rattle down the cylinder before he leaped off the side of the robotic arachnid and rolled safely on the ground below. The grenade detonated and caused a chain reaction of minor explosions that dotted the entire exterior of the oversized spider. It trembled uncontrollably before finally slumping to the ground in a fiery mess of melting metal.

"Haha!" Reno cheered exultantly with a wide grin as he pumped his fists to the air in triumph. He then gave a congratulatory thumbs-up to his partner, who merely stood erect, patted the dust from his uniform, and straightened his tie in a calm manner. "And now we claim our prize, yo."

The two simultaneously turned their heads to the unconscious Don Corneo, who was still comically sprawled across the concrete floor with his limbs facing off in all directions. With time of the essence, they rushed up to the corpulent individual and peered down at him.

"C'mon," Rude said while bending down and gripping the knocked-out don. "We gotta get outta here, fast."

With a strained heave, they both picked up the obese man and had most of him placed over Rude's staunch shoulders, with Reno supporting some of the burdensome weight. They turned to start back for the door, but stopped in their tracks. They were surprised to find a thin woman dressed in professional attire eyeing them suspiciously while standing in a neutral fashion mere yards away from them. With her hands on her hips in a slightly timid demeanor, she would have looked pretty normal and harmless were it not for the large splotches of blood stained across her clothes and the huge sword strapped to her back.

"…What do we do?" Reno asked in a whisper as he leaned close to his colleague.

As if an answer to his inquiry, the woman sighed, unslung her blade, and held it out in front of her in a stance ready to attack. Rude immediately dropped the Don from his shoulders and put his gloved fists up as Reno crackled his electrified baton in a threatening modus. With lightning speed, the woman dashed to their side, stopped right behind them, and slashed her weapon in a horizontal arc at neck level before the duo could even react.

The two Turks froze with their eyes bulged and jaws dropped in shock, assuming that their existence had been ended. They expected that at any moment, the world would spin as their decapitated heads dropped down to the floor. It took them a full five seconds to realize that they were fine and for the sound of the metallic clank that saved their lives to register in their minds. When they spun around, the first thing that caught their eyes was the bright sheen gleaming from the brilliant green steel of the sword they recognized as the blonde AVALANCHE leader's Ultima Weapon. Cloud Strife was no where in sight, however. Instead, there was another blonde young man with bright blue eyes holding the handle of the blade.

"Jethro…" the ebony-skinned woman growled as she slowly lowered her Flying Sickle.

"Havern Glaire." Jethro said brightly with a composed smile. "Why am I not surprised to see you involved in all of this?"

"Save it." she spat before launching herself at him.

They engaged in a chaotic display of whirlwind swordplay for some time before she jumped back next to the pair of confused Turks. She put her hand to her ear as if listening to a transmission and she slung her blade to her back.

"What's the matter, my dear?" Jethro asked in a relaxed manner complete with his trademark smirk while resting the blade over his shoulder.

"We'll have to continue this another time." she proclaimed coldly before bending down and effortlessly lifting up Don Corneo, cradling him in her arms.

She sprinted for the metallic shutter that led out to the loading bay. She flung her unconscious boss over her right shoulder and then cut the grating wide open with one fell sweep of her sword. The entire surface collapsed to the ground, revealing an awaiting helicopter hovering just outside once the dust settled. She tossed her Flying Sickle to the rebel leader, who was leaning outside of the chopper's cabin. Zeb caught the weapon by the handle and then sat back down as the helicopter lowered enough for Havern to leap up and enter the passenger area along with the white-haired man. The helicopter dropped somewhat from such an impact when both Havern and Corneo hopped onboard, but remained steady. With little hesitation, they took off into the air out of sight.

"They have Cloud." Jethro sighed disappointedly. He had seen the unconscious leader of AVALANCHE laid down on one of the seats in the chopper before it left. "Fantastic. They're not going to like that."

"Who's not gonna like that?" Rude asked.

"Why, the other members of AVALANCHE, of course."

"You're with Kisaragi and Valentine?" Reno asked.

"I guess you could say that. I'm sure they have located Miss Lockhart by now. She was left pretty much unguarded the last I saw."

"Wait a second..." Reno thinned his eyes in thought, recalling the name Havern referred to this man by. "Aren't you one of the prisoners we were supposed to rescue?"

"Apparently so, though I was able to break free from my captors using the disorder you all managed to create. I must say, I'm quite grateful for that."

"…You're a SOLDIER, aren't you?" Rude suddenly inquired.

Jethro blinked, but eventually sighed in defeat. "_Ex_-SOLDIER, 2nd class. I guess it's much too obvious now to hide."

"Hide?" Reno tilted his head in question. "Why would--"

"Perhaps this could all be saved for a safer time. There's a bomb in this building that's about to blow at any second."

"Damn, I forgot! Let's haul ass, yo!"

The trio jogged briskly for the opening, but they didn't get far when the whole warehouse was suddenly racked by a massive explosion that blew up in another part of the building. Though some distance from the epicenter, the three men nearly lost their footing from such a violent earthquake.

"This whole place is coming down!" Reno cried out as the ceiling and walls around them began to collapse.

"Just run!" Rude shouted back before he and Reno broke into a sprint for the exit as fast as they could.

Everything began caving in and chunks of debris started obstructing their escape hole. As if that wasn't enough, Rude glanced behind him to see streams of fire shoot out from both doorways and begin to fill the cavernous room with it's deadly flames. The bald Turk knew it wasn't just an ordinary bomb that had detonated. It was some sort of special explosive that was designed to slowly engulf it's boundaries in a hellish inferno to ensure the eradication of it's intended targets.

"We're not gonna make it!!" Reno screeched in frustration once noticing that the fire was catching up and the hole was nearly shut.

They raced as quickly as their feet could take them. The sound of their leather boots rapidly clicking on the concrete was nearly drowned out by the howling screech of the blazing sea of death that was surely about to overtake the trio. Just when all hope seemed lost, the two Turks realized their feet were no longer touching the ground. Now, the soles of their shoes felt like they were melting from intense heat.

With astonishment, they turned their heads and found that Jethro was in-between the two of them with a solemn, determined expression painted on his face, his eyes fixated on reaching their only exit. He had the both of them under either arm, taking wide leaps in a stride that was twice as fast as the two Turks could have ever hoped to run. Roaring flames dominated the edges of their vision until it all disappeared in the advent of their escape.

* * *

**Author's note: I really hope this all turned out okay. I just hurriedly spliced this into separate chapters.**


	15. The Beginning of the End

**Beyond Paradise II**

_Disclaimer: I do not own Yuffie, Vincent, or anything/anybody else in this fiction, they belong to Square Enix. I also don't own previously established fictitious characters such as Moira, Zeb, or Jethro. They were created by the original fan fic's author, tolerant. This is not an "official" sequel by the original author, more like a tribute by me since the original has been discontinued, unfortunately. I am not affiliated with tolerant in any way, shape, or form (other than being a fan, of course)._

**Author's note: *Yells maniacally* I can't believe it's been almost 3 weeks since my last update!!! I got some people who just won't leave me alone (seriously, friends are cool and all, but if I see em every FREAKIN day, I get pissed). AND on top of that, my PC's power supply wore out and I had to replace it. AND! AND! My nose ring fell out. Sigh... Anyways, the last two chapters turned out surprisingly well. Thanks for the reviews guys! They made my day. :P I'll try my best to keep it up, SilverSpirit 101. Szahara again, kudos on three reviews at once! I liked that joke, too ha. Don't worry about being random after some coffee… I'm like that every single second of the day. And yes to answer your question, stuck in Vegas with my family of all people is really, really bad…V_V mangaman20070, hell yeah, personally the bathroom demons scene was one of my favorites in the whole BP1/2 story. As for your question, yes I do plan to have Cleon take a major role for the rest of the story, but I promise to make the reason as convincing as I possibly can ha. :P**

**

* * *

**_  
All the shots I take__  
What difference did I make?  
All the shots I take  
I spit back at you  
I won't go away  
With a bullet in my back  
Right, right here I'll stay  
With a bullet in my back_

_Shoot Me Again  
--James Hetfield_

- **Chapter 25: The Beginning of the End  
**

"Urgh…" the gashed Mage groaned as Elena and Madison slowly set him down against an abandoned doorway. After the latter's warning of the bomb to her allies, the two Turks felt compelled to at least attempt to rescue the young victim of the malevolent swordswoman from certain death. The weak emergency potion they administered to his gruesome laceration had kept him alive up until that point, though he would need further treatment to ease his suffering. "Ow…"

"Damn, you got messed up, foo!" another NMI exclaimed of his grievously-wounded comrade as he knelt down next to the injured man with a basic cure Materia in hand. "This should tide you over till we can get you checked out by a doctor, a'ight?"

Once he gave his weak nod, Madison and Elena set out to check on the condition of the other two Turks, by reason of which being priority over the rest due to their immediate affiliation. The duo wandered meanderingly past the survivors of the daring raid--all of whom were spread out among the edges of the long alleyway, their pre-designated post-battle rally point--until they located their male counterparts, Reno and Rude.

The pair of suited men were settled amongst the young, battered gang members, silent but in otherwise adequate spirits. Expressionless due to the solemnity of the events that had just transpired, particularly the personal blow of losing contact with their fellow Turk, Beatrice, they casually bowed their heads towards Elena and Madison in acknowledgement as the two women came up.

"You two alright?" Madison asked with her hands in her pocket.

"Thanks to 'Superman' over there." Reno remarked while nudging his head towards the blonde swordsman leaning against the wall opposite.

Despite such a lugubrious recent turn of events, Jethro was idly watching the somber mob of people carry on down the alleyway with the same blithely aloof expression on his face. Madison ambled over to him, feeling gratitude for how he had successfully brought her compatriots to safety.

"Jethro, I presume?" Madison inquired as she awkwardly stepped up in front of him, her hands still in her pockets.

"Yes?" he replied amiably, keeping his observation of the raven-haired Turk's quite voluptuous figure fairly subtle. "Who might you be, my dear?"

"You can call me Madison." she said with her trademark smile. Though Jethro may or may not have caught it, she was eyeing his physique with the same imperceptible discreetness. "I… guess you could say I'm the de facto leader of this Turks detachment."

"Ah, yes. I simply cannot thank you all enough for aiding in our escape. Our captivity was beginning to get rather… boring."

"Jethro!" The conversing couple shot their heads at the approaching martial artist. "You saw Cloud? What happened to him? And why the _hell _didn't you ever tell us you were a SOLDIER?!"

"Ah, Miss Lockhart." Jethro greeted with a slight falter just before trading an apologetic glance with the female Turk that seemed to communicate a message along the lines of, _'we'll have to continue this later.'_

"Don't _'ah, Miss Lockhart' _me. I knew you were still hiding things from us, I just knew it. You better not be up to something, or I swear--"

"Please, if I may interject." Jethro chimed in cautiously before her rarely-expressed temper could intensify further. He was well-aware of the source of the typically shy and tenderhearted Tifa's current forthright animosity as from this latest episode, particularly the loss of Cloud to the enemy. "It is true, there were some things I chose not to reveal, but in hindsight, looking back on the already heavy distrust you all placed upon me, could you not admit that finding out about such an affiliation would not have just made things a whole lot worse between us?"

As Jethro continued to try to explain himself to the fuming bartender, Yuffie buried herself deeper into contemplation. She was indolently surveying the many people around her, all loitering about the alleyway in dismal moods awaiting for the word of what would happen next.

Though Yuffie was infinitely grateful for the luck of coming across some unlikely allies in a world where indeterminate masses wanted the heads of the members of AVALANCHE on a platter, she could not help but still feel alone. The faces of her closest friends had been replaced with the beaten, bloody mugs of over two dozen total strangers.

With a sigh, she turned to look back down at their only prisoner, the smoking sentinel whom she had knocked out in their encounter with Havern Glaire. He was seated against the wall while staring at the floor, at a loss for what else to do. Their interrogation of the man revealed why the base guards simply ran off and disappeared after the eradication of the warehouse. The Junon garrison was ordered into a full retreat for Modeoheim, which was confirmed by a leftover transmission by a Neo-ShinRa officer that was presumably to notify any stragglers from the base of the withdrawal.

The post-battle message was broadcasted off their captive's shoulder radio, though the frequency broke up before more information could be eavesdropped. Before the device went dark, a fragmented sentence broke through, most of the words either indecipherable or meaningless. The only thing of note that put the coalition on vigilant guard was the mention of something about 'reinforcements.'

The NMI gang leader, who had been going from Mage to Mage to check on their various conditions, turned his head to the end of the alley that ultimately led back to the now-destroyed Neo-ShinRa outpost and grunted with a very faint smile of relief upon seeing two more NMIs approach.

"Cleon, Rakk." Max greeted as Cleon came up with the latter's arm over his shoulder. The taller, older man the long-haired teenager supported held his free hand over his side, implying that his ribs were probably broken. The duo was greeted by several fellow gang members as they made their way to their leader. "I was beginnin' to think you two didn't make it."

"We're alright, we're alright." Rakk assured, his voice in a groan due to his pain. "We were covering everybody's escape against some warehouse laggards and those nasty 'lil tentacle things. One of 'em head-butted me right in the ribs, goddammit!"

"Hey Cleon, you still got that Full Cure?" Max asked of the only member of Norté Magus, Incorporated skilled enough to use such a demanding Materia. The perpetually-glaring teenager twitched the side of his lip, his whimsical way of nodding. "Get to work, then."

Cleon practically dropped his injured comrade in-between Yuffie and the captured smoking guard without so much as a look, then spun on his heel to set out to administer his restorative magics, either oblivious to the fact that he could have healed Rakk first or because of a whole different reason cooked up in his head entirely.

"Wow, Cleon's still weirder than ever…" mumbled Yuffie under her breath.

"You can say that again…" Rakk agreed with a scoff before he turned to face the young Wutaian beside him. "You know, in the entire year that I've known the guy, I have never once seen him actually laugh or even _smile_? He's _always_ got that same serious, bugged-out look and--"

He stopped himself mid-sentence with his mouth left somewhat ajar and thinned his eyes at the little ninja as if in sudden recognition, finally widening them all in furious shock upon remembrance of where he had encountered her before.

"Oh no…" Yuffie whined in a child-like manner, realizing that the choleric twentysomething next to her was one of Cleon's traveling companions from the year before when she had stolen all their Materia and Gil. She thought she had recognized the name. "Not again…"

With a sigh, Vincent rolled his eyes at yet another mess Yuffie had gotten herself into and uncrossed his arms. As the gunslinger stepped over their befuddled prisoner to help Yuffie out once again, Madison passed by to have a word with the head Mage due to the fact that he seemed to be the only other group leader not caught up in some sort of quarrel.

Choosing to maintain a sane professionalism to compensate for her allies' various untimely squabbles, she did not even bat a glance at the rather comical scene of a straight-faced character in a crimson-colored cape protectively nesting a panicked, screeching nymph beneath a golden appendage while apathetically keeping a snarling, expletive-shouting man at bay by pushing him back at the shoulder underfoot a pointy, metallic boot as a perplexed Neo-ShinRa captive entangled amidst the bedlam sported a look of total confusion in his eyes.

"We'd better start thinking about heading out." Madison suggested as she came up to Max. "That transmission bothered me. If there really are reinforcements on the way, we shouldn't stick around to meet 'em."

"Yeah." Max agreed before he turned around and shouted an order to the members of NMI for most to inconspicuously move out and for the rest to stay put as escort. He then turned back to Madison. "When you--"

"Got the numbers." Rude's cousin, Questa, interrupted him in announcement as she sauntered up to her leader with a paper in hand which had the casualty statistics written down.

"What's the toll?"

"With NMI, the Turks, AVALANCHE, and includin' the prisoners," she started with surprising professionalism, "We had a peak total of 54 people. 37 made it back. The one's that didn't include the Turk spy and AVALANCHE's robot cat who are both missin', and the AVALANCHE leader who got kidnapped by the enemy. I counted the heads right now, and NMI suffered the followin' losses: 9 confirmed dead, 17 wounded, and 5 unaccounted for..."

"Damn it…" Max exhaled before Questa finished the latter part of her sentence while rubbing the bridge of his nose with his eyes shut. "…Who're the 9?"

Questa's demeanor immediately sank lower than it already was, a dreary mien permeated across her face. "Gonzo, 'Ria , Doughboy, Lav, Aki, Marco, Jackson, Priest, and Loca."

Max let out another disappointed sigh, the faces of each slain member flashing before his eyes as Questa named the Mages. Nearby, Yuffie knitted her brows in wonder upon witnessing the gang leader's anguish. The commotion apparently lulled, Rakk sat beside the still-confused prisoner with his arms defiantly crossed over his chest.

"Why would he send out his people to fight in such a dangerous raid?" Yuffie asked the silent marksman beside her, making sure she was at least two people away from Rakk out of caution. "He knew of the risks. Why would he sacrifice the lives of--"

"He didn't sacrifice any of us out of greed or anything like that, if that's what you're implying." Rakk interjected from the other end of the four-person line leaned against the wall. "We've actually been after these guys for awhile now."

"What?" Yuffie asked, her ignorance quite obvious.

"We've been tracking these guys for the last month here in town. They seemed to be working in conjunction with a few of our rival gangs. We eventually found out that they established a black market in Junon that dealt in portable Mako generators. When we found out, we were furious! A bunch of us came from the Slums and Gongaga, and a few from even Wutai, so we've already been harboring a long-standing hatred for ShinRa and their Mako-related crimes. We never found out where the Mako was coming from until we saw the papers you showed us. Had we known they rebooted those reactors sooner, we would have taken them out ourselves. Since we didn't know, we just laid dormant in the shadows while watching these ShinRa guys' operations, waiting for the perfect time to strike."

"And the perfect time was when we came along." Yuffie stated.

"Right. Like I said, a bunch of us came from the Slums and Gongaga, so we're well-acquainted with the atrocities of ShinRa. I myself am one of the survivors of the Nibelheim Incident when Sephiroth burned the place to the ground and killed almost everybody. I managed to make it out with a couple of others before ShinRa moved in on the town and rounded up the rest of the survivors to use as test subjects in those Sephiroth Clone experiments that were all over the news after the company went under. I knew many of those people that got abducted. I grew up with them…"

"I'm sorry. I didn't know…"

"I vowed revenge on ShinRa for that, which is how I eventually found my way into NMI a few years after the fact. After the company sunk, I made a new vow to never allow anybody else to take up ShinRa's old ways. We all got our personal beefs with ShinRa and anybody else who abuses the Lifestream like that. I guess you could say we're like 'vengeful environmentalists'."

"So that explains why you guys joined our fight with little hesitation… umm, you do realize the irony in using Materia, which are things created by ShinRa using the Lifestream, as your main weapons, right?"

"What can I say?" Rakk brushed off her observation with a shrug. "Fight fire with fire."

"Reno, Rude, Elena." The trio of Turks looked up at Madison as she called them. "Let's go grab our stuff." She then turned to the gunslinger and little ninja as the Turks began to head out. "You guys should gather your things from the inn, too. It's just across the street."

"We'll be there in a bit." Yuffie answered as she stood up.

Yuffie then looked over at Tifa, who was still impatiently questioning Jethro for all he was worth, giving Madison the implication that the little ninja wished to wait a bit longer for her friend. Even though the irate bartender showed no signs of ending her inquisition any time soon, Madison took the hint with a nod of understanding.

"As soon as all of you are ready," Max started as about two-thirds of his gang began to depart, "Come back with us to our hideout. We can lay low for awhile and figure things out from there. I'm sure this ain't the end of all this."

With that, Madison and Yuffie nodded in accord, then the Turks started back for the inn to gather their equipment and luggage. Max returned to share a discourse with Questa just as Cleon came up to finally heal Rakk, the last disabled NMI.

"It's about time!" the injured man exclaimed.

While the Mages carried on and discussed their own matters, running parallel with Tifa's interrogation of Jethro a little further down the alley, Yuffie sighed and turned to look up at her tacit companion beside her, feeling quite out of place.

"C'mon, Vinnie." Yuffie said, breaking Vincent's demonic contemplations. "Let's go get our things ready. I left half my Materia in the room."

Vincent nodded before following the Wutaian princess back to the inn. The two crossed the street and disappeared through the front entrance just as a bandanna-wearing teenager appeared from the same street and sprinted into the alleyway.

"Max!" he yelled breathlessly. "Max, we got trouble!"

"Calm down." the gang leader chided. "What do you mean?"

"I-I…" stuttered the kid as he pointed behind him towards the direction he ran from. "Look!"

A chaotic chorus of innumerable riled voices echoed through the streets and grew in a thunderous crescendo before a massive horde of people began assembling at the entrance of the wide alleyway. Tifa ceased her tirade against Jethro and they both slowly stepped up beside the remaining Mages.

Most of them were unarmed, but a significant portion of the mob wielded battle instruments in the form of actual hilted blades and spears to makeshift home tools such as hammers, lead pipes, two-by-fours, and the like. Their diverse assortment of weaponry contrasted with the trait they all had in common. They were all out for AVALANCHE's blood. They began shouting various cries of accusing perturbation while pointing at the small group before them.

"There they are!!"

"That's Tifa Lockhart!"

"Where's the rest of 'em?!"

"The traitor Jethro is with them!"

"They've recruited more members!"

"We got 'em now!!"

"First they wipe out Midgar, now they're blowing up warehouses in Junon…!"

The individual exclamations slowly drowned amidst the sea of livid yells and irate hollers intensifying by the second, though the heroes could make out bits and pieces of information pertaining as to how the horde had been stirred of their own free will from the commotion caused by the raid on the warehouse. The people were obviously unaware of the fact that it had been a base of Neo-ShinRa aspirers.

"They must be at least 200 strong, if not more…" Jethro estimated in a sigh while indolently scratching his forehead. "These must be their reinforcements. Impressive, I must say."

"We didn't blow up the warehouse!" Tifa pleaded to the countless enraged faces glaring at her. They would not listen to a word she would say. "We found something out about the man you're all following! Your leader has been lying to you, you have to believe us!"

"Aww shit…" Reno trailed off, shocked at the throngs of infuriated locals in front of him.

His compatriots accompanied in his awe as they exited the inn's lobby after him. They were all carrying suitcases and carryalls containing their equipment.

Elena tried to suppress the chill that was running down her spine. "W-what do we do?"

"Damn." Madison sighed before handing her duffel bag to Rude and entrusting the satchel that held her vitally important laptop containing the incriminating evidence they had acquired to the much more nimble Reno. "We're too late, the reinforcements arrived… Okay, the three of you go now and get the choppers ready. Get back here as soon as you can. Something tells me we'll need to get these guys outta here in a hurry. Keep in radio contact!"

"Where are _you_ going?" Reno questioned.

Madison had already disappeared through the crowd before she could hear the red-haired Turk's inquiry. Hesitant to leave their teammate behind, the trio traded looks of consensus and reluctantly set out to return to their helicopters as ordered.

"Jethro, Max!" the suited woman called out to her only known acquaintances as she quickly poked through the angry mob.

She rushed up to stand beside the ex-SOLDIER and female martial artist, much to the irritation of the anti-AVALANCHE rebels. Most of the Mages had already returned after Max sent a runner to retrieve them, bolstering their number to a much more relieving 30 strong, though they were still greatly outnumbered against insurmountable odds.

"Where's Yuffie and Vincent?" Tifa asked as she leaned in close to Madison so she could hear her better, though she made the effort to enunciate her words in a clear, raised tone to counterbalance the tumultuous uproar from the hundreds of rebels before them.

"I checked on them before we left." Madison answered, her voice in a similar manner. "She said they're gonna be awhile. She was still packing her things and wanted to discuss something with Vince. The inn's walls and windows are pretty thick. We couldn't even hear this ruckus until we got to the lobby, so I don't think your friends even know what's going on."

"Max, what do we do?" came the question from one of the Mages.

"Don't start nothin'," Max replied in a precise, commandingly authoritative tone while batting his head from side to side from his place in the middle of the line, "Won't be nothin'. If we do gotta throw down, keep it civil. No Materia! Our beef's with ShinRa, not a pissed off bunch've misled townsfolk, hear?"

"Max," Madison started as she stepped up to the NMI kingpin, "It's about time to move out, just walk away. I've sent the Turks to fetch our choppers. We got two coming, but we can only fit six passengers in each one. We can airlift you back to your hideout, but the rest of your guys are gonna--"

"I'm stayin' on the ground with the Mages, but you can pick up AVALANCHE and bring 'em to the highest district. We'll be waitin' up there for ya after we lose this mob by splittin' up."

"If that's what you want. I just spoke with Tifa Lockhart over there and she wants to wait for two of her people still in the inn. We can't send anybody to fetch them because this crowd's in the way. The walls are pretty thick in there, and that coupled together with that annoying, broken elevator music that's always squawking through the speakers in the halls all day, they probably can't even hear all of this. We just need to buy more time for them to finally come out and for the choppers to get here."

"We can wait," Jethro chimed in from between the two, "But _they_ can't."

The ex-rebel pointed in front of him, diverting their gazes to the angry mob. It was at that moment that they realized the masses were at their agitational zenith, their blood-thirsty chorus of impatiently furious hollers foreboding the inexorable charge as pressured by the individuals within the ranks galvanizing their brethren with rousing cries of attack.

The two sides remained parallel on their own opposite ends, the majority shouting their violent obscenities at the smaller crowd of misfits that actually fought for the greater good. Though they did an exemplary job of hiding their hesitant fear through wanton broadcasted ferocity, many of the rebellious protesters were reluctant to initiate an assault against the intimidating cadre of steadfast street punks standing silently before them.

In an arguably intrepid fashion, a line of some half dozen Mages stood stalwart at the mouth of the alleyway in front of their comparatively tiny party, their arms crossed and their glaring eyes circuiting from side to side in a patterned vigilance, effectively dissuading the exasperated Junon locals from advancing on the prominently essential figures under the gang's protection a few yards behind them.

Two particularly heated characters from the unruly horde stepped forth with their hands raised in a beckoning provocation, only to be met with defensive deportments of deterrence by an equal number of Mages in an effort to discourage any physical confrontations. The endeavor failed, however, and a fist was thrown. The inevitable boiling point was reached and the protesters charged en masse. The battle had begun.

--

"Vincent, are you even listening?!"

The gunslinger blinked and found himself staring down into Yuffie's chocolate hues. She had her hands on her hips and her brows narrowed, making sure her gun-toting friend was truly hearing her.

"I'm sorry, Yuffie. I was thinking."

"What's different from every other time? Sometimes I swear you've got like, attention deficit disorder or something..."

Anyone else would have brought up the fact that Vincent would not have been lost to a straying contemplation if Yuffie would just make the effort to keep to a single subject at a time when trying to ask for his advice on something very important, but since Vincent would have considered such an allegation as much too rude, the thought never even crossed his mind.

Somehow, her story went from asking for assistance in deciphering an enigmatic message hidden amidst the ambiguous confines of a seemingly-premonitory dream about Moira and her mother to a long, drawn-out recollection about a time when her father, Godo, had made her do the laundry using experimental new machines that were somehow powered using Materia on a Wutai holiday that traditionally gave all the servants in the province a day of rest, and the resulting flood of foamy liquid that she inadvertently caused which blanketed half of the building and took days for the staff to clean up. Naturally, the gunslinger drifted further into a bottomless personal reflection.

"Anyways," Yuffie continued while moving back across the room next to her bag, weapons, and Materia to finish packing, leaving the sitting Vincent to idly stare at the bare wall in front of him, "About Moira and Midgar and Jenova... there had to have been some meaning to that. I mean, it's not like a dream would be so vivid and have your own mother in the form of your worst enemy to show you the worst threat the Planet has ever seen falling down on the remains of the greatest city the Planet has ever seen. I can't quite place my finger on it, but it's like this clown girl thing isn't as..."

By the first _'Planet,'_ Yuffie's words already began to fade and drown out through the superseding wails of a freezing blank nothingness as Vincent was pulled further into the howling oblivion of Chaos' existence. For some unapparent reason, he felt compelled to check on his demonic tormentor. The caped marksman could not ignore the faint inkling which itched him deep down that seemed to hint at a looming danger waiting in the distant shadows for a timely time to strike. The mental vision of Vincent ambled throughout the misty void for any signs of the fanged terror, Chaos, hoping for the monstrosity to possibly shed some light on the situation and maybe even hint upon where they should all head next.

The shade of the gunslinger meandered throughout the perpetual darkness, vigilant for any signs of whatever that would hint at anything at all. His footsteps echoed as he walked across the floor that was not there, the same blank countenance painted across his face as he turned his head from side to side in surveillance. Vincent then stopped in the middle of the empty vacuum of space and crossed his arms, at a loss of what else to do. For an indeterminate period, he stood wordlessly within the gloom, his thoughts seeming to resonate throughout the blackened obscurity that was his psyche.

He thought he heard something behind him and glanced backwards to look, but with no source of whatever made the noise to speak of, he turned back around and grunted due to being violently tackled. He laid on his back on the floor and found himself staring up into the deformed, motor-mouthed face of Death Gigas.

For the first time in many years, the monster sent a significant chill of terror down the gunslinger's spine, not because of such an unpredicted and ferocious take-down; that was something he was used to. What really unsettled Vincent was the fact that Death Gigas was screaming it's muffled, indecipherable words at Vincent with a look of sheer panic in it's eyes, as if begging to be saved from an approaching menace. It was gripping the front folds of Vincent's collar with it's gargantuan fists, shaking the crimson-eyed man in a sporadic cadence while shrieking in fear, whatever words it may or may not have been able to communicate stifled by the rusted metallic bolt lodged across it's mouth. The fiend that took so much sick pleasure in torturing it's host day in and day out was now utterly terrified and actually pleading for it's longtime victim to help him.

Unsurprisingly, Vincent did not know how to react. He shot his gaze at where the misshapen monster kept glancing back as if to see if whatever was chasing him was getting closer, only then realizing that Death Gigas had been pointing in that same direction the whole time, as well. Vincent forcefully shoved the panicked brute's hulking frame off of him and slowly stood up with the large, patchwork humanoid to his side. They both stared into the murky gloom, wary of the loudening rumble swiftly advancing.

An illegible figure began growing in the distance as it approached, hovering towards them at an inhuman speed. Death Gigas barked at the forthcoming manifestation while hunched forward in a cautioned fear, not unlike a dog or other frightened animal would do were it bipedal. Vincent thinned his scarlet eyes and squinted hard to finally make out that the ghostly entity was none other than the female jester, Moira. The upper half of her face was hidden out of view as siloutted by an untraceable shadow, but her lips were clearly pulled back into that same sickening smile as only she could do so.

And as if that was not enough, Vincent saw the source of what had relegated Death Gigas into such a distressed state. As the clown girl grew in size, the parallel frozen forms of the Galian Beast and Hellmasker could be made out. They seemed to have been captured somehow, which made sense of Death Gigas' dread. They were trailing the flanks of the jester girl, one on either side, but they seemed to be caked in an eerie glow that apparently rendered them unconscious while the female jester dragged them along.

Vincent could not help but wonder whether this was some sort of trick, or if Moira really was invading his mind, if that were even possible since he was awake. Just then, the three figures began to fade and were replaced by a wall of fire, an inferno that continued it's charge towards the lonesome gunslinger. Vincent let out a light gasp as the sudden realization came to mind.

Crimson pools opened wide to eye the slender back of Yuffie as she hunched down before her two bags and Conformer to tie her shoe on the bed, still talking about whatever she had been talking about the entire time, thinking that her companion was still listening.

"...face-first into the mud! That's when I took my chance to snatch her bag, but, I mean, I couldn't keep it that long, y'know? What was a 10-year old kid gonna--"

"Yuffie!"

The Wutaian princess jumped at such a sudden outcry and swerved around to see Vincent rushing up to her. The last thing she remembered was the flaps of red cloth enveloping her and a wall of black leather pressing up against her body.

* * *

**  
Author's Note: Wtf!!! It seems like I've reached some sort of 15 document limit in my story reserve! Fuck...how am I supposed to make my story into one big...okay, whatever anyways, once again, the chapter turned out so long that I had to splice it into 2 separate ones, effectively adding ANOTHER unexpected chapter to my original plan. I may or may not finish it tonight, but I'm currently in the middle of Chapter 26: Fight Fire With Fire.  
**


	16. Crashing Steel and Raging Fury

**Beyond Paradise II**

_Disclaimer: I do not own Yuffie, Vincent, or anything/anybody else in this fiction, they belong to Square Enix. I also don't own previously established fictitious characters such as Moira, Zeb, or Jethro. They were created by the original fan fic's author, tolerant. This is not an "official" sequel by the original author, more like a tribute by me since the original has been discontinued, unfortunately. I am not affiliated with tolerant in any way, shape, or form (other than being a fan, of course)._

**Author's note: Pleaaase, PLEEEEEASE let this action-packed chapter turn out as amazing as I envision it in my head...and yeah, I know I changed the name of the chapter title than how I mentioned at the AN on the last addition, but...okay I actually just switched the chapter titles and poems for Chapter 26 and the upcoming Chapter 27 because I felt that both changes were more "suitable" to their new respected chapter's content. Wait damn... I'm kinda giving away the story before I should, ain't I? Bleh....  
**

**

* * *

**

_ Take a look to the sky just before you die  
It's the last time you will  
Blackened roar, massive roar, fills the crumbling sky  
Shattered goal fills his soul with a ruthless cry  
Stranger now are his eyes to this mystery  
He hears the silence, so loud  
Crack of dawn, all is gone except the will to be  
Now they see what will be, blinded eyes to see_

_For Whom the Bell Tolls  
--James Hetfield_

- **Chapter 26: Crashing Steel and Raging Fury  
**

The young man screamed as the bulky leader of NMI tossed him into the masses, knocking down countless rebels in a domino effect. The skirmish was pure chaos, fists flying in all directions and no room to move or barely even breath. Discerning friend from foe was nigh impossible in such squishing confines, a necessary discomfort that was ironically the only reason nobody had been killed thus far.

Amazingly, the line had been more or less held and many of the anti-AVALANCHE members were kept at bay by the fierce, albeit exhausted, gangsters of Norté Magus, Incorporated. Tifa had been combating side by side with the electrified rod-wielding Madison, both of them incapacitating their adversaries and pushing them back to hold out for their transports to arrive. They would have made off sooner and ducked into some distant street to await pickup by Reno, Rude, and Elena as could be re-informed by Madison via radio, but the entire party had been cut off, effectively surrounded as a contingent of protesters already made the effort to flank their prey by running around the block to enter through the other end of the alleyway, strategically encircling the area and forcing the smaller group of innocent outcasts to carry the fight on at all sides.

The battle seemed hopeless, especially with the fact that they were actually trying _not _to kill a countless array of townsfolk hell-bent on taking their lives. Even when the helicopters would arrive, Madison could not see a way of getting on board with everyone safely in toe, and further, she could not calculate how NMI could escape such a blood-thirsty mob of rebels without suffering more losses. To the raven-haired Turk, it seemed like it would take nothing short of an unbelievably extreme distraction to get them out of this mess.

Her unofficial prayer was answered some moments later as the inn exploded in a plethora of roaring flames. The anarchic brawling ceased and all eyes turned to the blast and mushroom cloud. Many of those in the angry mob still on the street desperately dove for cover as rampant debris flew out in all directions and even fell down from the sky, some making it to safety, some not. The whole incident went on for probably no more than 5 seconds before Tifa realized what had happened.

Before the martial artist could react to the fate of her comrades still inside the inn, however, she caught sight of a caped figure shooting through the flaming wreckage, jumping high up into the sky with a willowy nymph cradled in his arms. Vincent's arcing descent took him and Yuffie to settle on the rooftop right above the alleyway, four stories up. He landed in a kneel to absorb the shock of such a fall and slowly rose to stand erect while staring into the face of the little ninja he held in his arms. His cloak was able to completely shield Yuffie from the lethal flames, but the concussive shock caused by the explosion had rendered her temporarily unconscious.

She seemed peaceful as Vincent gently set her down on the concrete surface of the rooftop, careful not to accidentally cause any further injury to her whatsoever, no matter how big or small. Vincent then turned and dropped his gaze at the edge of the rooftop to look at the innumerable faces staring back up at him.

The scene of the caped marksman and teenaged Wutaian's miraculous escape distracted the masses from thinking about the most logical query that should have been the first thought to cross their minds: Who set off the explosion?

The only one to think of such a question was Jethro, though before he could bring everybody else to their senses, a distant hiss was discharged subsequently followed by yet another explosion, this time detonating at the rim of the crowd. Screams of agony and flabbergasted terror accompanied the blast as multiple rebels were launched into the air while the dozens not in the epicenter of the explosion were knocked off their feet from the resulting waves of kinetic shock. As the countless affected by the mysterious attack began to painfully rise to their feet, the air became gripped with the sounds of mass, unbridled gunfire.

Several unfortunate people in the huge crowd began to get cut down under the bombardment, causing the mob to disperse much quicker than it had assembled. The townsfolk all retreated in the same direction as a hail of bullets chased them from the opposite end. Due to such an obstructive view from being in the alleyway, Tifa and her allies could only see the fiery tracers of the rounds being shot. The bartender rushed to the corner of the alley's mouth and slowly peaked around wall, catching a sight that took her breath away.

Dozens of uniformed and helmeted men were marching down the avenue out of the city tunnel, firing their fully-automatic carbines at anybody or anything that was unlucky enough to find themselves in the militants' way. Jethro, Madison, and all of the Mages stood by waiting, anxious to hear what the female martial artist would inform them of. Tifa swerved round to warn her compatriots of the coming tide of indiscriminate death, but gasped as she saw another group of infantrymen entering the other end of their alleyway.

"Look out!!" Tifa shrieked while pointing at the hostile contingent.

They all spun around just in time to see two rockets get fired straight at them. At the last second, Max rushed up to the forefront of their rear and extended his palms forward. The projectiles detonated in a blinding conflagration once they hit the gang leader's Materia-created force field that safeguarded his comrades from any damage. The squad of militants continued their steady advance, sauntering closer to the defensive screen while going wild in a nonstop barrage with their rifles. The transparent barrier began to falter as static resonated throughout the magical surface and Max groaned in a taxing distress.

"I won't be able to hold it much longer!" he grumbled.

Tifa then saw the approaching company on the street suddenly break into a run towards the mouth of their alleyway, possibly as ordered by the squad firing at Max's shield so they could surround and wipe out the staunch defenders.

"What do we do?!" a female Mage, who had peaked alongside the bartender to see the rushing platoon, screeched beside Tifa.

Vincent looked below from his secluded spot on the rooftop edge, giving him a bird's-eye view of the situation. From here, he could see the events transpiring with more accuracy. Knowing that time was of the essence, he made his analysis quick, yet precise. He saw that the entire force from the street had not broken into a run to cut off his allies in the alleyway, but was rather just a large detachment making up two-thirds of the company while the remainder continued on their steady, vigilant march down the Junon avenue.

He took note of their clothing, as well. Their uniforms were a distinguishing shade of blue, and they each wore a flapped, armored helmet with a patterned trio of red glassed orbs on the forehead. They all wore scarf-like garments around their necks, some leaving them where they were, others using them to wrap the lower half of their face. Several within the ranks even held swords and officer's insignias with distinctively alternative garments, suggesting that the forces were possibly being led by at least a few former SOLDIERs.

Though Vincent could tell they were no better than mere 3rd class members through their overanxious movements, the fact remained that they were SOLDIERs and would have to be dealt with more thoroughly than the rest. There was no doubt that these men and women were the true reinforcements of Neo-ShinRa, and by the looks of it, they were all on a full-out, take-no-prisoners, retaliatory offensive.

The lethally indiscriminate performance of their opening assault implied that the higher-ups of Neo-ShinRa were now completely sick and tired of being challenged and have stepped-up their dealings to a considerable degree by unleashing their better warriors with orders to seek and destroy AVALANCHE and the Turks, as well as anybody who may get in their way, NMI and innocent locals included. He looked further down the avenue and sighed upon seeing that an even larger force of Neo-ShinRa's military, complete with a small fleet of attack helicopters approaching from the direction of the endless ocean to Junon's front, was slowly but surely making their way down to their position from out of the tunnel, as if the current contingent was not enough.

Instead of pondering where such a blatantly palpable army of fresh troops could have suddenly come from, he understood that he had to act quickly in order to assist his compromised compatriots, despite the fact that he was unarmed. Both his and Yuffie's weapons were destroyed in the bombing, and he briefly cursed himself in hindsight for even unholstering his Outsider pistol in the first place, but he knew he had to fight, if only to distract their innumerable foes long enough for his allies to muster and launch a proper counterattack.

Regardless of such a dangerous maneuver, Vincent knew that there was no other choice and accepted the idea that he had to release one of his demons. Chaos was eternally out of the question, a given, but such a desperate situation called for the next best thing. He closed his crimson eyes, peered deep within himself, and saw four monstrous outlines siloutted against a purple, twisting nether. The shadowy figures had their glowing hues transfixed, staring back at him with a stoic taciturnity. By the looks of things, Chaos had apparently retaken control from the clown girl, who seemed to have just been toying with the marksman the whole time, as was her way. With a deep sigh, he took the quickest glance behind him to make sure Yuffie was not looking, holding out a hope that she would stay out of harm's way. The consideration was perplexingly unexpected, but he had a deficit of time to dwell on such a inexplicable emotion.

His wishful thought was in vain, however, and Yuffie opened one eye just in time to see Vincent's head turn back to look down at the rushing company of militants below just as they got under Vincent's 'kill zone,' the perfect time for the cloaked man to initiate his ambush. With an uncharacteristic cleverness stemming from the concern she felt for the gunslinger that had watched over her and gave her a comfortable tolerance for such recent adverse happenings, she heard the mass gunfire raging below, immediately understood what was going on, and instinctively foresaw that her friend was about to do something dangerously heroic. Standing at the edge of the rooftop, he then raised his arms to his side and silently fell forward.

"Vincent, no!" Yuffie cried out just as he disappeared out of sight.

Though in retrospect, such a worried screech could be deemed needlessly melodramatic and unnecessary due to the requisite to set things right calling for whatever he was about to do, the outburst was instinctive. She then rushed to the edge to examine the scene.

"The shield's 'bout ta break..." Max announced in a groan as the force field faltered one last time under the punishing barrage of gunfire from the squad of soldiers.

It was at that moment that Cleon strolled up beside the strained gang leader while idly tossing a red-colored Materia up and down in his hand like one would do to a coin. The perpetually-glaring teenager then paused, and after a few seconds, he thinned his eyes at the faceless foes behind the barrier and raised his fist, the summon Materia in his hand beginning to emit an eerie orange glow.

The earth about 15 feet behind the attack squad began to crack and radiate a fiery smolder. It gradually intensified before the ground blew up in a magmatic eruption, causing the squad of Neo-ShinRa troopers to stop their bombardment and swerve round just in time to be swept away amid a ferocious hellfire. The flames from the devilish attack dwindled against the static transparency of Max's magical barrier, which became the final dose of tension that shattered the shield and caused it to fade away. The smoke settled and the heroes found themselves staring into the snarling demonic visage of the fire-elemental, Ifrit.

"Gooood boy." Cleon praised with his hands on his hips while staring up at his summon.

He then twitched his eye and panned his head to the side, glancing behind the long-horned satyr to see that more soldiers were entering the alleyway from the opposite end. He looked back up to his summon and motioned his head towards the approaching foes. The demonic satyr gave a quick nod and spun round, then stampeded down the alleyway on all fours to engage the hapless group of grunts, faint outlines of flames and embers trailing it's thunderous charge.

The troopers fired in vain as Ifrit drew closer, their bullets either not doing enough damage on the satyr's thick hide or simply just missing it altogether. It took a few moments for the beast to reach the end of the long alleyway, but once it did, it knocked over the clustered team of soldiers like a set of bowling pins and proceeded to rampage through the subsequent ranks that followed the initial squad. After watching his summon decimate the enemy forces in the distance for some time, Cleon scratched his head for no reason and then dropped his arms to hang loosely at his sides. He stood silently in a seemingly perpetual shiftless state before he thinned his steely hues in curiosity and spun on his heel to find out that he was now standing alone in the alleyway, a realization that made him scoff in surprise.

All his allies had already poured out onto the avenue to combat the ambushed Neo-ShinRa forces as thrown off by the Hellmasker form of Vincent, who was directly across the street locked in a grapple with a Guard Hound. The Guard Hound had sank it's fangs into the right forearm of the hockey-masked monstrosity, an act that further infuriated the already enraged Hellmasker. The Hellmasker raised it's arm and glared at the animal, who dangled sporadically, still pressing it's attack as if it believed it could win. The demon slowly lowered it's hulking arm, catapulted the helpless canine into the air, then smacked it away using the back of it's clenched fist once the beast came back down. The Guard Hound's whimper faded into obscurity as it flew off the side of the city street's edge, disappearing from sight to fall to it's death below. The Hellmasker let out a wicked screech and revved up it's chainsaw to press on it's attack against the petrified bunch of infantrymen that came from the direction where the anti-AVALANCHE protesters had retreated.

The Hellmasker feverishly brandished it's chainsaw while cackling in a broken, maniacal modus and charged out of Cleon's field of vision just as a light tap sounded behind him. Cleon winced from the sudden noise and quickly looked over his shoulder to see Yuffie scurry up beside him. She whipped her hands down in frustration once observing the scene.

That entire level of Junon had exploded into pandemonium. The forces of Neo-ShinRa were locked in an all-out war with the combined might of AVALANCHE, the Turks, and Norté Magus, Incorporated. Brutal melees, crashing steel, and hectic shootouts of bullet against magic were raging throughout the entire district as combatants from both sides scrambled to find cover and return fire. The midsummer skies above the city was an aerial combat zone, a valiant pair of Turk helicopters evasively engaged in a tactical fracas against Neo-ShinRa's gunship squadron in a near-desperate attempt to keep the company choppers from attacking their outnumbered allies permeated across the metropolitan expanse below. The aircraft ferociously pursued one another, the stray bullets from their high-caliber weaponry racking the sides of the buildings which caused an endless artificial hail storm of shattered glass and rocky debris to rain down on the countless warriors embroiled amidst their epic clash spread throughout the avenue.

Beneath the firmament battlefield, the pavement was littered with bodies, some writhing in pain, some lying still. A few brave souls that called Junon their home even joined the fight to drive out the uniformed invaders, though most of the locals were too afraid to take up arms because of an utter lack of formidable weaponry.

"The biggest battle to hit the Planet and I'm freakin' missing it!" Yuffie squawked while surveying the chaos. "I need my Conformer!"

"...Then go get it." Cleon retorted in a bland, aloof tone as he idly stared at the ocean's horizon in front of him while scratching an itch near his nostril piercing.

Yuffie glanced at the smoldering wreckage of the inn where her belongings and large shuriken laid buried under tons of rubble, probably destroyed or damaged beyond repair. The Materia was most likely still intact, though there was absolutely no time to dig them out. She then thinned her eyes at the eccentric teenager beside her as if irritated at him for mocking her, half-expecting some sort of playful smirk or witty smile at her expense. Cleon merely glared back at her with an insane look on his face.

"Why the hell are you just standing here like a retarded cow, anyways?!" Yuffie demanded of the long-haired teenager. "Shouldn't you be helping out your friends?" Her companion's peculiar stare remained undeterred. Yuffie sighed in disgust, forcefully gripped him by the sleeve, and ushered him down the sidewalk. "C'mon, let's go find Tifa."

"Why?"

"Just c'mon!!"

Hugging the walls, they waded through the bedlam from cover to cover to avoid being hit from random projectiles, with Yuffie keeping vigilant for any sign of her martial artist friend. They ducked into an adjacent alleyway and crouched behind a dumpster, analyzing the confusion to decide their next move. Suddenly, Cleon shot up to his feet with his mouth slightly ajar and his eyes staring blankly into the distance as if in sudden realization of something, apparently undisturbed by the fact that he was now foolishly exposing himself in the middle of a chaotic battle with stray bullets ricocheting around him in reckless abandon.

"What the hell are you doing?!" Yuffie screeched as she pulled Cleon back down. "Are you crazy?!"

"Apparently so. I just realized and wondered why the hell've I been followin' _you_ of all people around for the past 47 seconds."

"Are you SERIOUSLY asking that question right now?! You're a lunatic!"

"..._You're_ a lunatic."

"C'mon, just follow me, I need protection, okay? My stupid Conformer's buried under 20 tons of rock!"

"Just use your Materia."

"They were in the inn, too!"

"You got two left."

"What?!"

"On your glove thingy." Cleon remarked while watching Jethro slash a foe across the chest with the Ulitma Weapon.

"Wha...?" Yuffie looked down at her gauntlet and saw that he was right.

Yuffie then remembered that the only weapons left on her person were the two Materias still slotted into her right arm's gauntlet. She had equipped the two orbs before the warehouse raid out of circumstance in the event that she should find herself separated from her Conformer, which was fitted with her few attack Materias. Most of the Materia in her collection was virtually useless or inefficient in combat due to being random finds she had come across when hunting or stealing. Her gauntleted pair could be considered as a defensive application, the initial plan having been to use the green Sleepel to render any of her immediate foes unconscious and the purple Speed Plus to make a mad dash for her disarmed shuriken. The same principles applied in this current situation.

Yuffie then raised her head up to see if it was a safe enough to continue moving, but gasped as she saw Moira hovering in the middle of the street. The scene before her was pure madness, and the small stature of the female jester was obscured by passing combatants locked in their individual confrontations, but Yuffie could still make out the sickening smile painted across her face. Oddly, the upper half of her face, namely her eyes, were covered in an untraceable shadow, which was odd because the way the sun was positioned, her whole face should have been completely visible. Yuffie could not shake the intuition that the clown girl seemed to be darker and more evil, if that was even possible. Honestly, Yuffie had forgotten all about Moira, due to the fact that she seemed to have disappeared lately, merely popping in and out on occasion, Yuffie catching glimpses of blue and green out of the corner of her eye. Yet there she was, and no one but the little ninja seemed to notice her.

Yuffie was broken out of her trance-like state as a taller figure stepped through the clown girl as if she were just a hologram. A trooper now stood where Moira was and fired a missile aimed straight at the very alleyway she and Cleon were taking cover in. By the time Yuffie comprehended what was about to happen, it was too late. She was just about to be caught up in a lethal explosion.

And then time stood still. Everything within eye shot completely froze in place, no one noticing what had happened, except for the long-haired teenager who activated the spell. The heavy dust, black smoke, raining debris, and midair blood remained paralyzed wherever they were as Cleon strutted up to the rocket, a mere 5 yards away from reaching it's target, which by the looks of the shell's trajectory, would have been the wall immediately above and behind Yuffie and himself.

Cleon paused in front of the rocket, which had a brilliant crescent of fire protruding from it's rear. He inspected the rocket for a few moments and then raised his right arm up to move it, the Time Materia inserted into his iron bracelet still giving off it's bluish-green glow signifying the Stop spell was still in effect. As soon as his fingers touch the rim of the explosive, there was a sizzling sound.

"Ow." Cleon grumbled as he quickly pulled his hand back.

The rocket was burning hot, so he swiftly patted at the side of the projectile, slowly turning it around to face the direction of the ocean. Once he was sure it would carry on it it's new path, he sauntered back to stand in his original place beside the terrified Yuffie. He then raised his arm to unfreeze time but abruptly stopped himself, thinned his eyes and turned to look at the little ninja beside him. For some time, he silently glared at her shorts. Suddenly, he reached into her pocket and pulled out the very same two hundred Gil Yuffie herself had stolen the morning before. Revenge was sweet. He tossed the coins up and down on his hand in victory before he stuck them in his back pocket and finally unfroze time.

The mayhem resumed exactly where it left off as if nothing happened, and the missile continued on it's new route to explode in the middle of blank air. The soldier that fired the rocket had his empty launcher held loosely as he stared at his two targets with a humorous look of confusion in his unmasked face. He knew he had just fired his devastating ordnance straight at them, and yet there they were, standing perfectly unscathed, the Wutaian princess staring back at him with matching bewilderment. He then whipped his head around when he heard an explosion, seeing what looked like his very missile blow up harmlessly into the wild blue yonder. He turned around to take another look and try to access the situation, but the last thing he saw was a hurricane of a bare fist that sent him back flying several feet.

"Tifa!" Yuffie yelled in relief before running up to her.

Tifa had a different expression on her face, absolutely serious and determined. She had also ran up to meet her teenaged compatriot but she immediately grabbed her by the wrist and ran off with Yuffie towards the gondolas that would take them up to the next level. They raced past Jethro, who batted a wondering glance as they passed, and swiftly ducked a horizontal slash by his opponent, apparently a SOLDIER officer. Jethro turned his head back at the enemy and raised the Ultima Weapon as if to bring down an arc of forged steel, an act that prompted the Neo-ShinRa swordsman to raise his blade in defense for the coming attack. The maneuver was just a ruse, however, and Jethro took this opening to kick the SOLDIER square in his unprotected abdomen. As he fell back, Jethro followed through with a vicious combo of various swipe after swipe after swipe before the man could hit the ground. The SOLDIER landed on his back with his entire upper body completely covered in a cobweb of gruesome lacerations, the wounds taking their sweet time to bleed due to such a lightning-fast assault.

The blonde ex-rebel raised the side of his mouth in a satisfied smirk, which quickly disappeared as a booming thud crashed in front of him. Jethro raised his gaze and dropped his head with a disgusted sigh as he eyed the colossal robotic spider glaring right back at him.

--

Tifa and Yuffie sprinted up the empty street, the district right above the level with the epic engagement raging on. They ran as fast as they could to Elena's downed helicopter, which was the reason Tifa had grabbed the young Wutaian in the first place. Elena's distress signal went off some time ago, Madison being the one who picked it up. She was about to go herself until Tifa volunteered to rescue the blonde Turk under the sentiment that Madison was more needed in the battle. Madison's pistol expertise was top-notch, much better suited for the nature of the clash than Tifa's martial arts skills.

"Oh my gawd!" Yuffie exclaimed once seeing the damage done.

By the looks of things, the Turk gunship had began it's forced descent by colliding with the sides of multiple buildings, utterly decimating the affected portions before it finally crashed in the middle of the street. They pushed through the crowd of locals that had gathered around the downed, smoking aircraft and saw the injured Elena laboriously coughing in the cockpit, apparently either stuck or too hurt to free herself. Knowing time was of the essence, Tifa reared her heel back and began kicking into the hinges of the cockpit glass's damaged rim. The onlookers gasped at the sheer power displayed by her strikes, befuddled at how such a delicate nymph harbored so much strength. It took some time, but the already smashed-up cockpit top broke off just enough for Tifa and Yuffie to grip the bottom's edges and physically raise the vehicle segment, though without much progress.

Several of the bystanders rushed up, dropped their weapons, and assisted the duo in their efforts. With much strained heaving, they succeeded in hoisting the cockpit top to a significant degree. Tifa abruptly stopped and reached in to unbuckle the injured Turk's harness, carefully pulling her out with caution. Elena groaned in agony as she was extracted from the wreckage and set down on the pavement outside the crater caused by the crash. Tifa then raised her head to thank those that helped her and Yuffie, but froze in place once realizing that those that helped her were the very same anti-AVALANCHE rebels she had just brawled with before Neo-ShinRa's forces began their advance.

She knitted her eyes in frustrated confusion at the many faces staring awkwardly at her, as if they were sorry for what they had done. It seems like they finally realized the true enemy, an epiphany that spurred a change of heart within the rebels. They could not keep eye contact with her out of apparent embarrassment and simply stared down their noses. Tifa glared at the protesters, resisting the greatest urge to yell out a very deserved '_I told you so!'_

Instead, she turned back down to Elena and lifted her up, throwing the blonde suited woman's arm over her shoulder. The three young women turned to leave the rebels to wallow in their shame, but they did not make it far. They screeched upon hearing sudden gunfire aimed straight at them. The crowd instinctively scattered once again and retreated, an act that the bartender personally condemned in her mind as another sign of their excruciating cowardice. Tifa then corrected herself by reasoning that the squad behind them had the advantage of distance, and those that ran were either unarmed or held makeshift weapons for close-range encounters. They would have had to charge all the way towards the infantrymen while being cut down in the process, but yet again Tifa was torn in half due to such a thought, remembering how zealous and fearless they had been in their earlier confrontations, such as the fervent skirmish on the outskirts of Midgar just before being captured by Zeb Mahonney's forces.

It seemed like their initial passionate valiance stemmed from an underestimating overconfidence in fighting a small group of misfits they infinitely outnumbered. Now, their enthusiasm had all but disappeared and their true colors were showed with the rise of the matching numbers of the army of Neo-ShinRa.

Tifa and Yuffie ushered the injured Elena to hide behind the smoldering chopper, bullets ricocheting off the streets as the attackers continued in their ceaseless bombardment. Yuffie peaked her head out of the side and saw that though the force--which was presumably dispatched to confirm the status of the downed Turk helicopter and finish off the pilot if she had survived the crash--was a mere team of four people, but they had the unfortunate benefit of distance and lethal ranged weaponry. They continued on their steady trudge, spreading farther out to increase their volume of fire for better survivability, a tactic which eliminated the obvious strategy of an ambushing counterattack from the three women.

Tifa did not want to admit it, but she could not stop her mind from screaming at her that the situation was hopeless. With their Materia either confiscated from capture or buried under tons of debris from the inn's explosion, both Tifa and Yuffie were unarmed, Elena was injured, and their allies below could not come to their aid because they were focusing on their own desperate life-or-death altercations. The sounds of the combat zone echoed up to their district, and unfortunately, they seemed less hectic than a few minutes before, implying that the conflict was drawing to a close. Though Reno and Rude seemed to be faring better in their aerial struggle, it was a lopsided stalemate in the enemy's favor, with Tifa surveying their inevitable loss as only a matter of time. Despite the unleashing of the formidable Hellmasker and Ifrit, coupled with the talented casters of Norté Magus, Incorporated, they were terribly out-gunned and out-manned. The fact that they could hear a muddled myriad of frantic pleas for assistance from Elena's exposed headset as broadcasted by whomever had a radio on their side of the war only reinforced such a pessimistic assessment.

The cries over the radio were in vain since everybody was so wholly engrossed in their own dangerously critical engagements. As if that was not bad enough, a shriek of death could be made out over the disarrayed intertwining transmissions every now and then as another ally was lost to the enemy. The sudden realization was reluctant but could not be helped, and it sent a terrified chill down Tifa's spine. They were fighting an impossible, losing battle.

* * *

**Author's note: Shit. This. Was. LONG. But it can't be helped. In fact, I might make this a habit for the final few chapters. I kinda rushed it at the end there because I have to get to work on my speech tomorrow, but I made it as good as I could. I really wanted to continue, but I knew it would just make it WAAAY too long (according to the word counter thingy, there's 7,206 words in the chapter, not including this AN!) so I decided to end it here and incorporate the rest into the next chapter. I also seemed to have developed a sickness, I'm not feeling good and I'm hackin a lot. Whatevers. Till next time, guys. :P**


	17. Redemption

**Beyond Paradise II**

_Disclaimer: I do not own Yuffie, Vincent, or anything/anybody else in this fiction, they belong to Square Enix. I also don't own previously established fictitious characters such as Moira, Zeb, or Jethro. They were created by the original fan fic's author, tolerant. Though, I DO claim a childish, unpatented ownership over my original/semi-original characters--Cleon, Questa, Max, Rakk, and Havern Glaire. And the recurring smoking guard. He's tiiight. This is not an "official" sequel by the original author, more like a tribute by me since the original has been discontinued, unfortunately. I am not affiliated with tolerant in any way, shape, or form (other than being a fan, of course)._

**Author's note: I'M BACK, LOSERS! Took awhile, but school's FINALLY winding down and I'm unleashing hell on this town. Er...I mean website. Um.. er...I mean....... Wow, anywho uh, "Lethally catholic performance…"? Wtf…did I really write that? Wow, I must have been really sick (which SUCKED by the way, that day at school was HORRIBLE with a capital FUCK), I think I was trying to think of another word for "indiscriminate," but now I can't remember where or why I put in catholic O.o I forgot, but think I may have been thinking of "chaotic" but I said that too much in that chapter, I think huh? Oh well I just put in "indiscriminate" again, whatevers. Haha thanks Szahara. So without further ado, here we finally go-- Chapter 27: Not Worth the Wait.  
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_Behind you, hands are tied, you're being ostracized  
Your hell is multiplied, upending  
The fallout has begun, oppressive damage done  
Your many turned to none, to nothing  
You're reaching your nadir, your will has disappeared  
The lie is crystal clear, defending  
Channels red, one word said  
Blacklisted, with vertigo make you dead_

The Shortest Straw  
--James Hetfield

- **Chapter 27: Redemption**

Due to some minor turbulence, the head of the comatose AVALANCHE leader slid off from the surface he was laid down upon for the seventh time, much to the annoyance of the short-tempered Havern Glaire as Zebadiah Mahonney repositioned Cloud's blonde pate yet again. The female SOLDIER gave a light, disgusted sigh as she returned to watch the ocean pass by, prompting the kingpin of the now-defunct anti-AVALANCHE movement to roll his eyes in riposte.

In an ironic happenstance, the aircraft rocked once again, and the still-unconscious Don Corneo was jolted from his unbuckled seated position, his face landing square in-between Havern's breasts. Relishing the poetic justice, the silver-haired twentysomething raised the side of his mouth in the most imperceptible smirk. Havern irately lowered her thin brows while staring down at the knocked out man pressed into her bust and growled in revulsion, loathing the apparent datum that he was a disgusting pervert whether conscious or not. She gripped Corneo by the flap of his balding reverse-ponytail and yanked him off of her person, abruptly waking him up in the process. Despite such a petite structure, the little secretary effortlessly shoved her boss all the way off to the other end of the bench without even so much as an impassive glance.

Corneo shot his swollen eyes open in surprise as he concluded his slide across the bench. Still somewhat lost, the first thing he saw was the eternally spiky hairdo of their prisoner, Cloud Strife, then up at the young Zeb Mahonney, then back down to the unconscious Cloud as his head slipped from the surface yet again, then finally at the source of the disgruntled scoff that eked out at the AVALANCHE leader's annoying movement, his assigned secretary Havern Glaire, who had her right temple rested against the window's glass while she idly watched the oceanic waves of tranquility roll by below.

"Well now," Corneo started while shifting his studious gaze around the cabin of the helicopter out of curiosity, ending at the laying Cloud, "Seems like I've missed quite a lot, haven't I?"

"Only the total decimation of our Junon outpost and the route of my entire garrison." Havern stated in a bland tone, still watching the aquatic scenery. "Nothing much."

"Hmph, I'm no stranger to sarcasm, Miss Glaire."

"Neither are you to getting yourself beaten to a bloody pulp…" she grumbled under her breath.

"What was that?"

"Nothing, _sir._"

"Hmm, quite…so where are we off to? Are we going to Modeoheim?"

"Not yet." answered Zeb, his arms crossed. "We are off to Gongaga to pick up some back up equipment. From there, we will take a plane with an armed escort to get to Modeoheim in half the time."

"Why not just return to Modeoheim now?" Corneo asked, still rubbing his bandaged face.

"As ordered by the board, sir." Havern replied while still gazing outside the window. "We're supposed to pick some things up from an affiliate over there."

"They are not too happy that we have lost Junon and much of our confidential information to the enemy." Zeb added for Corneo's benefit. "If any of our papers make it out into the public eye, our company would be compromised before we can become powerful enough to defend ourselves from the millions that would want Neo-ShinRa taken down."

"I can't see why we just can't go back to Modeoheim now…"Corneo mumbled to himself as he leaned back against his rugged iron seat.

"It wouldn't matter, anyways." Zeb retorted, sensing his colleague's cowardice and desire to get somewhere safe behind scores of armed soldiers. "The army's been marshaled and has already been sent to Junon."

"The army's been marshaled?" Corneo echoed, shocked at the apparent fact that the legions of Neo-ShinRa were required in order to deal with their relatively few enemies.

"Yes, your garrison from Costa del Sol linked up with all the reserves from Modeoheim. Seems that the board has decided the Junon raid was the last straw and--"

"Wait, wait!" Corneo interrupted while waving his hands. "Why were _my_ men called?!" It was quite obvious to his compatriots that he was upset at the possibility that he could lose his assigned troops, whom he incorrectly exploited to use as his own personal bodyguards while he conducted his depraved activities on unsuspecting young women around Costa del Sol. "Why not those bastards from Midgar or Havern's--"

"Because," Havern interjected from his side, "Your men have seen the least action. Mahonney's and mine have already suffered many casualties at the hands of AVALANCHE and the Turks, and whoever these new orphan trash are."

"Correct." Zeb added. "So the Midgar and Junon stations were ordered for a full retreat to Modeoheim while your men and the rest deal with our enemies. They are fighting them on the streets of Junon as we speak."

"Why not have your people join in the battle?!" demanded the Don. "That would have been at least 50 more men! Those AVALANCHE pests are crafty, I tell you! They'll find a way to--"

"Because our soldiers are supposed to fortify Modeoheim in case the army is routed." Zeb explained, annoyed at his compatriot's paranoia.

There was another bout of wordlessness before Corneo opened his mouth again. "…So what happens if the army if defeated?"

"It's unlikely," Havern replied, "But if that happens, then at least the defenses at Modeoheim will be built up by then. We can always make a stand over there. With our munitions systems and combined manpower, we could finally wipe them all out on our terms. Which is how we should have done things in the first place…" she murmured the latter.

"Fine, fine." Corneo conceded. Then there was a long, uneasy silence in the cabin of the huge transportation helicopter, save for the muffled whirring of the rotor blades. Don Corneo shifted in his seat uncomfortably before grumbling a cowardly afterthought. "I just hope they deal with these insects soon before they gain more support to their cause…"

"For Odin's sake…"

"…What was that?"

"NOTHING, sir." she snapped before scoffing and turning to stare outside the window.

Don Corneo winced and tilted his head towards her hushed outburst. She was not looking back, but he did overhear the final part of her whispered sentence, which was something along the lines of, '_For Odin's sake, quit your fucking bitching, already..._'

Quite frankly, he was shocked at his secretary's uncharacteristic reply, having been used to her maintaining such a conservative professionalism for as long as he has known her, the time period of which would be coming up on about a week by tomorrow. She started out as being indisputably submissive to all of his commands up until the point where he was ordered to make regular trips to Junon from Costa del Sol, though looking back now, her acquiescing compliance was much more inclined over telecommunications when he would relay his records concerning his outpost's Mako production and supply inventory via radio or electronic mail for her to process and document.

As soon as he began to see her more on a personal basis, hints of an imperceptible insubordination seemed to gradually propagate as she grew more defiant in understandable response to his frequent immoral debauchery towards anything with breasts, particularly the sole female of the Junon outpost, Havern Glaire herself. To the obese don, it was all obvious in retrospect and he could not blame her evolution in personality, but he would fail to help himself even if he tried. He was nothing more than a lonely, perverted man looking for some love.

Though her superiority in strength and agility was clearly palpable due to the Mako Infusion she underwent to become a superhuman SOLDIER, Don Corneo never felt intimidated by her until right at that moment. Possibly due to the recent events at the raid of her Junon outpost, it was as if a slumbering bloodlust had been reawakened within the harmless-looking female who was forced to resort to drastic measures to salvage what was required before her mandated retreat. Though the young woman looked innocuous enough as she sat beside the window, he could almost swear he felt a rekindled wildfire now burning tumultuously beneath her smooth, ebony skin.

The lady before her was now anything but; she had her legs sprawled apathetically in front of her; her right elbow was listlessly rested on an indentation protruding from the cabin's closed door; the right cheek of her face was lazily nested in the palm of her right hand, and her lower jaw circuited up and down as she indolently grinded away on her chewing gum. It was as if she were a whole different person, as everything about her now screamed a world-weary defiance, her new aloof demeanor reminiscent of a teenager or one of those hotheaded street punks he had so surreptitiously avoided while navigating the compromised base for an escape route. The fact that her nerdy bifocals were gone and large splotches of blood now stained her garments failed to subside his notion. For all Don Corneo knew, any control he thought he ever had on her was all but gone now.

"Mr. Mahonney," Havern suddenly spoke up, breaking the don's pusillanimous contemplations, "Why did you take… _that _with you?"

"You mean Strife?"

"Yes, him. Why go through all the trouble with to get this particular invalid? What is so special about him?"

"We need him."

"For what, sir?"

"That is none of your business, Miss Glaire."

Havern thinned her eyes at his straightforward rejoinder. To acquire the comatose AVALANCHE leader, she had to risk her skin slicing through a cadre of magical death-dealers; juvenile in nature, but formidable, nonetheless. The female SOLDIER felt that she was at least inclined to know _why_ she was ordered to do conduct such a feat.

"Don't tell me it's for that stupid jester girl of yours…" she grumbled while turning her gaze back out the window.

"I said that it is none of your concern."

"You lost control of it, already…"

"That is ENOUGH--"

A thunderous boom suddenly cut him off as they caught a glimpse outside Havern's window of what appeared to be a humongous aircraft zoom by with lightning speed from the opposite direction. The resulting shock wave sent their helicopter into a frightening half-spin, trembling the passengers within from their seats before the pilots could regain stability.

"Is everybody alright back there?" one of the pilots called out from the narrow passageway behind Zeb leading to the cockpit.

Zeb took a quick glance around at everyone and looked back at the pilot. "Yes, all is well. Did you see what that was?"

"It looked like…like some sort of… dirigible, sir. Seemed to be in quite a hurry. What do you want to do, Mr. Mahonney?"

He turned back to his compatriots for an answer, which immediately came from Havern. "Keep on the present course." she ordered before she took out a little device from her pocket.

She fiddled with the knob, changing her headset's frequency to the one for the army presently fighting at Junon. As soon as she tuned it, the earpiece became bombarded with countless voices, the engaged troopers relaying orders and updates to each other, some frantic, most calm.

"Attention all squad leaders, attention all squad leaders." she enunciated clearly into the hectic channel. "This is Major Havern Glaire informing you that you have a bogey inbound to your position, repeat, you have a bogey inbound to your position. Presume hostile. Keep on your toes."

**--**

"This is it," Tifa announced as the execution squad drew closer, their gunfire halted to wait for the three women to show themselves from behind the smoldering wreckage of Elena's helicopter, "You guys ready?"

The injured, groaning Elena nodded weakly while clutching her pistol to her chest, but Yuffie gave off a small, pessimistic whine. The plan against their four armed foes was already made, although the little ninja's broadcasted reluctance stemmed from the fact that the tactic would place her precisely into harm's way. After a period of silence, praying to the gods they did or did not believe in, they broke off from their shelter and staged their strategic counterattack.

In the blink of an eye, Elena immediately peaked out from the tail end of the crashed chopper and fired her handgun at the first target her eye caught in that split second, dispatching the farthest left trooper with a lucky round into her unarmored sternum. Yuffie had already sprang from her spot on the helicopter's opposite end as the female Turk narrowly missed a retaliatory volley of gunfire by retreating back into her cover. The nimble warrior princess sprinted on an arc around the perimeter towards her foes in an otherworldly blur, a discernible glow from her hand tracing her lightning advance. Utilizing her Speed Plus Materia, by the time her enemies noticed the gambit and unloaded their weapons in a vain attempt to take her down, their bullets trailing the swift ninja's outlined visage, Yuffie already arrived at the soldiers' rear flank and hit the middle militant with a Sleepel spell.

A wave of exhaustion abruptly gripped him and he began to lose his balance. Struggling to stay on his feet, he stumbled to his side and fell on his hands and knees. He drowsily lifted himself up and unsuccessfully attempted to regain his stability, but the endeavor failed miserably and his fatigue sent him careening towards the far sidewalk in a clumsy stupor, his legs struggling to keep him erect by rapidly stepping to catch up with his forthcoming fall. The man exhaled a lethargic grunt before finally crumpling down into a temporal slumber next to a huge, gaping hole in one of the decimated shops affected by the Turk aircraft's crash.

The remaining two troopers continued their futile reprisal at the fleeing ninja, oblivious to the fact that the now airborne martial artist had just launched herself from the top of the steel wreckage behind them. Tifa landed on the shoulders of the first distracted adversary with tremendously crushing force. She practically squashed him into the pavement, but was not finished as she then lifted him up into the air and catapulted her uniformed victim back into the ground with a windmill-like maneuver, severing his grasp on whatever life he had left in him.

She then kicked away the final man's carbine and engaged him with relentless abandon, succumbing to the blind fury that she had so zealously suppressed these past few weeks in order to maintain the only seeming optimistic aura that extended to her teammates in such an uncertain era in their lives. All self control was nonexistent now, as she took out her pent-up rage on the unknowing grunt.

Unfortunately, it could not have been released at a more inopportune time, as it was at that moment that she realized her opponent--who was so skillfully blocking every single one of her expeditiously devastating strikes--was significantly bigger in comparison to her short, dainty physique and obviously quite adept at hand-to-hand combat.

Tifa pressed on with her assault, regardless. All her martial arts training was now put to the greatest test to date against such a formidable foe so deceptively agile despite his muscular build. She delivered a series of powerful punches with an occasional kick for good measure, but only three of the attacks from her lengthy barrage connected, and they neglected to cause much damage, anyway. She somersaulted her enemy with a boot to the chin and immediately followed up with a leg sweep to his feet, but both attacks proved useless. She then jumped high into the air, setting herself up for an Overleap Kick intended for the back of his cranium that would prove to be fatal if successful, but the legionnaire displayed his flexibility by arcing himself backwards at the last second, completely blocking her maneuver by catching her ankle in between his wrists, which he had crossed in an X-shape.

He immediately followed through by grabbing her foot and subsequently slammed her into the ground. Tifa groaned in agony as the side of her body hit the asphalt, cracks developing from such a violent impact, and listlessly gasped as she felt herself raised, knowing she would once again be pounded into the street. The only reason she had survived the initial attack was due to years of meditating endurance, but she was sure the second time would be nothing short of a possible death sentence should her adversary wise up and make the effort to put all the pressure of the maneuver's whiplash to her skull, which by the looks of how she was positioned high above the brawny soldier, would be just that.

The female bartender fell helplessly onto the ground, but to her surprise, there was no pressure besides gravity to cause her to do so. She then noticed that she no longer felt the hulking hand clenched around her boot, and upon looking up, the tiny figure of Yuffie was the only thing looming over her. The teenaged Wutaian was locked in a defensive stance, facing the direction of the Neo-ShinRa brute whom she had beaten back with a flying kick to his jaw at the last second.

The man gripped his lower mouth in pain and then growled with malice before angrily running towards the frightened little ninja, who was doing a good job of hiding her fear of such a huge opponent by showcasing a face permeated with rugged determination. Tifa's gaze suddenly strayed to behind the man at Elena, still supporting herself against the side of the downed chopper, right before the blonde Turk halted the militant's charge with a round to the back of his head. He slumped down and slid across the asphalt some ways before stopping a mere arm's length away from Yuffie and Tifa. Once all was done, the trio stood in triumph, exchanging victorious smiles of relief at their success.

The feeling of conquest was short-lived, however, as a deafening gunshot suddenly rang out. The three women froze and shot their eyes from partner to partner, fearfully expecting one of them to collapse to the asphalt in pool of blood. Their breaths held for the seemingly inevitable, they awaited for what felt like a racking eternity for the loss. As time and fortune would have it, that expectation never came to fruition and the suspense was superseded with curiosity.

As they looked around, a nearby gurgle caught their attention, and they turned their sights towards the soldier Yuffie had cast the Sleepel spell on. By the looks of things, it seemed like he had just awoken and was about to fire on them, the pistol still clutched in his near-lifeless hand only serving to reinforce the notion. The three allies watched as he took his last few breaths, slumped down, and ceased moving altogether.

Their eyes instinctively turned to the source of the discharged round that had saved their lives. They found themselves staring at a scared young man nervously clutching an ebony revolver in his shaky fist. He stood at the mouth of an alleyway, right at the forefront of a sizeable crowd of familiar faces all timidly staring back at the three women. One by one, they slowly and hesitantly exited their hiding place. From adjacent alleyways on either side, even more locals began appearing, their gazes fixated on the injured Turk and her two AVALANCHE compatriots.

As she looked around at the dozens of people, Yuffie finally realized that she had been here before, a fact that she failed to comprehend earlier, most likely due to the recent bedlam of the skirmish they had just underwent. Recognizing the land marks and signs depicting which district they were in, Yuffie remembered having been on this exact street yesterday with Vincent. The very store with the big gaping hole they've been in front of this whole time was the overstocked weapons shop, but the plump, balding owner was no where in sight. Instead, a group of stalwart individuals emerged from the tattered building with an array of firearms in hand, presumably salvaged from the wreckage.

"Tifa…" Yuffie called out to her comrade as she slowly stepped up beside her, a hint of fear in her voice.

"No, Yuffie, it's okay." Tifa reassured as she turned to her side and held out her arms to support Elena, who had also approached her partners, feeling the same caution as the little ninja. "They're our… they're our friends."

One of them pumped the forend of his looted shotgun, lowered his weapon, and nodded with alacritous fortitude, his eyes communicating something along the lines of, '_we're here to help.'_

Before the three women knew it, the rest of the crowd began collecting at the front of the weapons shop to arm themselves. These were no ordinary locals, as the three women understood from extensive experience that ordinary locals were more or less innocent bystanders that instinctively opted for flight rather than fight.

It took some time, but both and Elena and Yuffie eventually figured out what Tifa had meant by her blunt--albeit, hesitant--statement that the horde of strangers surrounding them were their friends. Recognizing the marshaling townsfolk's willingness to mobilize for battle, they finally realized that all of these people were the anti-AVALANCHE rebels.

* * *

**Author's note: Holy crap, 8,549 words...long, long, long...I may or may not break these all down into seperate chapters once I conclude BP2... and I'm so sleepy and I got a test tomorrow, so I'ma read this chapter tomorrow to clear and discrepancies or misspellings, etc.  
**

**And I was just thinking: I'm now open to questions. Anything you wanna ask about BP2 (even about BP1, truuuust me I studied tolerant's story inside and out to start on this) that you wanna ask--trivia, posssible misconceptions, questions about the storyline or characters or chapter segments/sentences you may not be clear on (I know my writing can be a little too… "poetic" sometimes), etc. etc. ask and ye shall receive an answer on the following chapter's Author Note. I'm not giving away spoilers, though… ha :P **

**As a final note, it's...well...FINALS week at college. After Tuesday, though, I'll be completely free until Spring semester!!! AND! I *HAVE* to finish Beyond Paradise 2 before Winter Break ends because I'ma be completely, utterly, fastidiously, hungrily, ly-ly-ly devoting myself to my studies come spring semester. The sooner I finish, the better, so I can just enjoy the rest of my short, pitiful excuse for a vacation (not that I don't enjoy working on BP2. Far from it, it's actually one of my greatest personal achievements I actually LIKED doing, and has made me...happy...*omg*) Chapter production should be taking a lightning-fast powerleveling from now in comparison to my previous hiatuses between additions, so... keep an eye out for "Chapter 28: My Friend of Misery."**

**Update: 12/22/08 this is the broken down chapter from Fight Fire With Fire  
**


	18. Fight Fire with Fire

**Beyond Paradise II**

_Disclaimer: I do not own Yuffie, Vincent, or anything/anybody else in this fiction, they belong to Square Enix. I also don't own previously established fictitious characters such as Moira, Zeb, or Jethro. They were created by the original fan fic's author, tolerant. Though, I DO claim a childish, unpatented ownership over my original/semi-original characters--Cleon, Questa, Max, Rakk, and Havern Glaire. And the recurring smoking guard. He's tiiight. This is not an "official" sequel by the original author, more like a tribute by me since the original has been discontinued, unfortunately. I am not affiliated with tolerant in any way, shape, or form (other than being a fan, of course)._

**Author's Note: Spliced chapter 12/22/08 for Fight Fire With Fire. Sorry guys, don't bother reading this, this is just a spliced chapter, not a new one, reason being that I was really bugged by the awkward pacing of the last few chapters so I cut them up and put them at "natural cliffhangers" for better flow and impact or effect, but the next chapter's new.  
**

**

* * *

**_Do unto others as they've done to you  
But what the hell is this world coming to?  
Blow the universe into nothingness  
Nuclear warfare shall lay us to rest_

_Time is like a fuse, short and burning fast  
Armageddon's here, like said in the past  
Fight fire with fire__, ending is near  
Fight fire with fire, bursting with fear  
_

_Fight Fire with Fire  
--James Hetfield  
_

- **Chapter 28: Fight Fire with Fire**

"Take cover!"

Jethro immediately dived for the nearest alley, narrowly missing a wave of concentrated acid launched by the gigantic mechanized spider. The green liquid pervaded the corner and floor, melting the surfaces into a series of smoky, sizzling cavities. After waiting a few moments, he poked his head out just in time to see the female member of NMI he had been fighting alongside with for the past few minutes roll underneath the spider's legs, launching a fireball in the middle of her rotation before shooting back up to her feet on the other side, behind the damaged monstrosity.

Jethro had led the gigantic spider further down the street away from the main area of conflict, a courageous stratagem on his part in order to reduce pressure on his already tested allies, who began showing signs of becoming overwhelmed by the countless forces of Neo-ShinRa. Were it not for the incessant massacring amongst the Neo-ShinRa ranks as carried out by the sporadically unbridled thrashing of the Hellmasker and Cleon's elemental summon, Ifrit, his ragtag coalition would have already been annihilated or perhaps even captured long ago.

The ex-rebel's Mage ally had appeared out of no where to assist him in his efforts against the challenging metallic leviathan, but their combined might only seemed to succeed in prolonging the inevitable, as everything the duo had thrown at the beast thus far only appeared to intensify it's exertion into a berserker-like state. Though the hopelessness of the situation appeared ostensive, the two persisted to defeat the company automaton for their own reasons.

Jethro sprinted out from the alleyway and leaped up as high as his Mako-Infused body could take him. He viciously slashed at the motorized fiend's body as he ascended, but the spider's titanium hide was so thick that Jethro's attacks merely left a series of deep, harmless gashes, despite his superhuman strength as a SOLDIER, 2nd class. He landed on the monster's head and intuitively severed the spider's chimneys, four thick exhaust pipes that constantly spewed out a dark, foul-smelling vapor.

The strike neglected to show any noticeable damage, but the subsequent energized plunge Jethro performed on the robotic goliath's roof sent a violent convulsion throughout the automaton's construct that caused it to cease it's rampant aggressions against the female NMI below to focus it's piercing forelegs on eradicating the more immediate threat on it's head. The pointy tips of it's limbs repeatedly punctured at the air above itself, reaching out for the nimble blonde SOLDIER. Every time Jethro dodged a stab, he lashed back at the limbs, deflecting the blows in a hail of yellow sparks, as the female gang member below threw every magical spell she could conjure, a frenzied plethora of the elements attacking every inch of the titanic spider.

The blonde swordsman kept himself mobile as he danced around the roof of the spider, plunging and slashing with Cloud's Ultima Weapon at every opportunity. As he stepped over near the rear edge of the colossus, he felt his foot suddenly sink somewhat as if he had pushed down some sort of panel. Without warning, a hole suddenly slid open in front of him and a long clamp shot out right at him with such swiftness that he had absolutely no time to react. The trap he just triggered appeared to be some sort of defensive mechanism; the claw clenched around his waist in a death grip and immediately lifted him up into the air, exposing him to open reprisal. Jethro growled in pain at the pressure tightening around his waist, but the growl escalated into a torturous howl as one of the mechanical spider's pointy legs impaled him right through his back.

The spear-like iron appendage delved deep into his shoulder blade and now protruded out his chest as another Neo-ShinRa gunship began a fiery, crashing descent in the background, shot down by the aerial expertise of Reno and Rude. Jethro batted his steely hues open just in time to see a haze of blood--his blood--fly off in front of him as caused by the skewering. Sound became muffled and time seemed to slow down to a crawl as the adrenaline left his body, the red mist sailing away at a snail's pace. In a surreal twist of fate, before the blood could fall to the spider's roof or off the edge, it splattered midair into the face of the jumping Hellmasker.

With an ironic grace, Vincent's thuggish, corpse-like figure sliced through the titanium plating of the clamp holding Jethro with ease, effectively freeing him. Rather than assisting the mortally wounded man to safety, the bloodthirsty demon gave into it's rampaging insanity and proceeded to decimate the whole top surface of the automaton with it's mighty, razor-toothed chainsaw. Jethro coughed up more precious life plasma as the world began to spin and his vision consistently distorted to an intrusive fuzz, all due to the hemorrhaging and trauma. As the gigantic spider twitched from side to side in a desperate bid to shake off the inhuman attacker from it's head, the lying Jethro slid limply off the edge of the tall beast and began free-falling to the ground in a dizzying crescendo.

He could actually see the pavement getting closer and closer, but the fact that this meant he would land face-first failed to register in his mind due to such grievous blood loss. Just before the impact, however, the vertical drop turned into a diagonally horizontal flight and he later felt himself in the slender arms of his female NMI partner. She struggled with the weight of a male as she landed on her feet, but tried her best to set him down as easily as she could. He winced as he touched onto the floor, then looked up at his savior.

"I don't know which one of you I should thank." Jethro joked with a feeble chuckle, satirizing the obvious datum that his vision was so blurringly detached that he was seeing multiple reflections of the same young woman.

"Dork..." blithely chided the teenaged street punk adorned with an array of piercings before giving him a juvenile smile. "Take it easy, man. I don't got a Cure Materia or whatever, but you'll be fine if we can just get you to someone who does, 'kay?"

Jethro replied with a weary, lightheaded nod. She moved down to hoist him over her shoulder as the Hellmasker continued to combat the gigantic spider behind them, but immediately cut herself short at the sound of massive gunfire and frantic war cries. The deafening commotion of the battlefield down the street actually upsurged into a clamor that was louder than before. The ear-piercing racket of innumerable discharged guns amplified significantly, and the shouts of the Neo-ShinRa troopers suddenly went from vigorous and unfaltering to sounding exceedingly apprehensive and even panicked. She shot her head up to make out the sources of the new voices, widening her eyes in shock upon realizing that a veritable sea of armed rebels, their former enemies, were now charging into the fray to their rescue. There must have been over a hundred of them, or at least that was the number the young Mage wanted to believe.

The company troopers were effectively fenced in on both sides, the gangsters at their front and the fresh rebel horde stampeding down the Junon avenue in full force towards their rear flank, a thick hurricane of screaming bullets cutting through the ocean air. The tide was now turned, as the magic used by the Materia-wielding members of Norté Magus, Incorporated was no match for the insurmountable ballistics methodology employed by the Neo-ShinRa army. With the timely addition of the gun-toting rebels rushing en masse, the odds were evened, an exhibition of the philosophy of success through fighting fire with fire.

"What's going on?" Jethro asked in a daze, still lying on the ground.

"We just got some backup." the young female answered back optimistically.

She then caught sight of two figures sprinting towards their position. They were two women, the little ninja and the raven-haired Turk leader, racing over to assist in the problematic tussle against the gigantic spider. Madison fired her pistol as she ran, her bullets bouncing away from the construct's bulky metal hide. A red shuriken the size of a dinner plate flew through the air, deflected off the spider's backside in a sparkly ricochet, and boomeranged back into the tiny hand of Yuffie, who had to leap up in an elegant flip to catch it. The duo continued their advance down the wide street, still pressing on the ranged assault. Yuffie went on to help out her demon-formed friend while Madison stopped beside Jethro and the female gang member.

"Oh, my god!" the Turk exclaimed once observing the blonde man's critical injury, her voice weighted with concern. "Jethro, speak to me."

"I've had worse." he chuckled lightly with a drained smirk, despite the fact that his garments were tarnished red around the wound and an alarming amount of blood streamed from his lips, staining the sides of his cheeks with crimson lines that dripped down onto the blacktop terrain. "Though, I'm afraid I won't be of much use until I get some treatment for these cuts..." He suddenly went into a coughing fit, spurting bubbly globs of burgundy body fluid.

Madison scoffed softly as she looked down at him, amused at his positivity towards such a predicament. "You're dying, you idiot." she stated with a small smile, her voice almost perfectly hiding an imperceptible dismay. She then stood and looked up at the pierced youth beside her. "Can you help me out?" she asked while gripping him underneath the back of his arms.

The girl gave a nod and grabbed his legs. Together, they hoisted Jethro up, carried him towards the sidewalk, and gently propped him up against the wall of a building. Madison pulled out a small vial from her pocket, a Hi-Potion she had looted off the corpse of a slain Neo-ShinRa swordsman.

The female Mage waited until Madison began to apply the healing liquid to Jethro's wound and then stood up. "Your buddies look like they need a hand." she remarked before running off to assist Yuffie and the Hellmasker.

"Ooh..." Jethro lethargically moaned, feeling the ecstasy of the fluid saturating every inch of his bleeding aperture. "Now _that's_ a potion..."

"It's pretty strong, so you should be back on your feet in no time. It'll take awhile, though, so just sit tight until then."

She turned back to survey the scene and saw the Hellmasker rampaging over the out of control behemoth, digging into it's roof. The transfigured gunslinger had withered away the whole top of the automaton with it's chainsaw, reducing the titanium surface into a muddled mess of jagged metal to expose much of the wiring and pipe configuration the armor protected. Unknown fuels spat out and electrical sparkles waywardly discharged all across the top surface as the Hellmasker mutilated the circuitry while laughing maniacally at it's deeds. It's high-pitched, demonic cackles were almost dreamlike, an otherworldly cachinnation that echoed through the freezing sea air and actually rattled the raven-haired Turk's very bones at such a sound and sight.

With the skies above Junon painted a drearily gray gloom signaling that rain was expectantly forthcoming, the Hellmasker's eyes lit up in sickening delight as it continued it's terrible Splattercombo attack that sent the robotic spider into an unpredictably erratic riot. The leviathan construct twitched and shuddered sporadically from the substantial damage being dealt. The scene was pure madness, and the fact that the fiery wreckage of a Neo-ShinRa helicopter behind the Hellmasker was in the middle of an infernal descent to the lower district while showering the area with steel rain only added to the surreality, allowing such a sight to achieve the comparison as something out of a child's nightmare. Honestly, Madison could barely believe that this inhuman, hockey-masked monstrosity was on her side.

Despite the racket, she happened to look further up the empty street at the sound of rotor blades and cursed under her breath once seeing two more gigantic spider robots being airlifted onto the end of the street by two huge transport helicopters. They quickly touched down and began a slow but steady advance towards their position as the aircraft disappeared over the top of the buildings' skyline. She took a quick glance down at the main battlefield, seeing that the tide of the hectic fracas started leaning towards their favor, but that would all count for naught if the automatons joined the fray. She estimated that at their rate, the mechanized spiders would be on their position in less than a two or three minutes, so she decided to act as soon as possible.

"I'm gonna go help out these guys." Madison told Jethro as she pulled out her pistol from her lapel. "Will you be alright?"

"A couple of moments and I'll be back in the action." he reassured as he abrasively pulled himself up into a sitting position with a groan, still gripping the area where he had been skewered.

"Don't go in the front of it!" Madison heard the female Mage announce as Yuffie dodged a stream of acid. "It'll automatically shoot acid at cha if ya get in it's sights!"

The spider finally swatted away the Hellmasker after countless failed attempts as Madison came up. It flew off further up the street as the spider also kicked away the female Mage, who disappeared screaming off the edge. The Turk took the opportunity of a clear line of fire and quickly tossed a Swift Bolt she had been saving up at the exposed top of the titanic arachnid. A streak of lightning immediately roared down from the overcast above and hit the roof of the spider head-on.

Yuffie threw her large red shuriken at the motorized arachnid once again, but this time it was batted away by one of it's hind legs. Her weapon careened through the air and became lodged into the front of a nearby building about three stories up. Without hesitation, the little ninja made a mad dash for the crimson star, rushing as quickly as her legs could take her. She scaled the surface, running vertically up the wall towards her stuck shuriken. She grabbed it and jumped back down to the pavement, narrowly missing an acidic stream fired at her by the gigantic robot. The acid melted a huge hole into the front of the structure with a loud, smoky sizzle.

"I think we almost got it!" Yuffie shouted out, noticing the top of the spider was smoking considerably.

Madison then gulped as the spider spasmed intermittently and nearly crushed her underfoot. She dove at the last second and rolled to a stop near the edge of the street, the robot's enormous foot lifting up to reveal a cracked crater in the street where she had just been a split second before. She stood herself up from her prone position, cursing under her breath in the shock of realizing that a few inches more and she would have toppled over the edge. Though, as she peered over, she noticed that the rim was not a sheer, perpendicular drop as she originally conceived. Rather, it was a steep incline that led off a 10 or 20 feet to the true edge. The Turk then let out a startled gasp once realizing that this overlooked architectural statistic was the only reason that kept the female NMI from falling to her death; or at least not yet.

"Hold on!" Madison called out to the terrified young girl, who was desperately pressing her body down into the slope to keep from sliding off to her doom.

The young teenager was utterly petrified, too scared to move or even breath in order to keep herself from slipping off, but due to the unencumbered smoothness of the ramp, she was slowly inching towards the end, despite how she dug her fingers into the narrow indentations that ran down the surface, only serving to prolong the inevitable. She was frozen in fright, her eyes transfixed on the nearing edge. All this added with the girl's panicked hyperventilating only further drove the raven-haired Turk in her race against time to rescue her.

Madison had already withdrawn a relevant contraption from her emergency kit, and was now secured to a safety wire knotted at a nearby metal street pole. She crouched low and carefully creeped towards the young victim, the line harnessed to a belt around her waist. Every fiber in her being screamed at her to move faster, but a little voice in the back of her head constantly reminded her that the logical way was to reduce the amount of tension she placed on the unsure cable, as too much pressure could very well lead to an irreversible disaster.

Madison was just within grabbing distance now, and she stretched her arm out as far as she could, but was limited because she had reached the end of the rope. The teenager stuck her hand out in a frantic bid to grab onto Madison's fanned fingers just barely out of her grasp. Madison felt her heart drop down to the pit of her stomach as the teenager's emerald green hues looked back with helpless pessimism, her eyes filled with a frightening myriad of tragic emotions pleading, imploring, and beseeching the raven-haired Turk to save her life. Not a moment ago, the female street punk was fighting voraciously against the colossal arachnid with a headstrong recalcitrance, an audacious determination that effectively portrayed her as a courageously dauntless heroin of justice.

Now, as the girl's ankles and feet dangled timorously on the verge of extinction, the sprightly impetuousness that filled her vigorous eyes had all but disappeared, her entire demeanor now evocative of a pitifully unfortunate little child innocently crying out for her mother to come rescue her from the monsters creeping up from under her bed. Madison blinked back tears at the fragile youth's panicked whimpers, the whole event causing her to relive a quite similar incident involving her own baby sister many years ago that concluded with tragedy. Over and over, she told herself that the same outcome would not happen today. She was going to save her life.

--

A blinding flash of light flared from the front of the teenaged ninja, and a mighty beam of archaic energy reminiscent of the ages shot forth into the side of the gargantuan spider robot. The damaged construct toppled over from such an immense blast and now teetered dangerously near the edge of the street, but it remained more or less intact and began to clumsily hoist itself back up, still significantly functional.

"Why don't you just _die, _already?!" Yuffie screeched, furious that her highly concentrated All Creation technique did little more than knock the automaton on it's behind.

With forethought nonexistent, the enraged Wutaian Princess raised her covered arm and channeled as much innate power as she could muster in preparation for her Landscraper attack that would send a violent shock wave through the ground towards her titanic foe and send it toppling over the edge. Though, she neglected to stop and think about the long term effects of such a strategy, particularly the possible deaths of innocent bystanders that could be caught up in the crash below. A blessing in disguise, she abruptly stopped herself just as she was about to begin the earthshaking move once she saw an injured, normal-formed Vincent Valentine slam limply into the side of the rising construct.

He was unconscious, and had been launched from further up the street by one of the new gigantic spiders that were advancing towards the battlefield. In his Hellmasker form, he kept the pair of destroyers at bay, but he got so beat up in the process that he was eventually knocked unconscious and swatted away, purposely right into the path Yuffie's forthcoming attack, which the mechanized arachnids' AI counter systems had detected and analyzed.

Yuffie gasped, worried that Vincent could be smashed under a massive metal appendage, and immediately dashed forth. She pulled the comatose gunslinger over her shoulder and dashed out of the spider's radius just as it sporadically danced it's legs around to regain it's footing. She carried him into the perceived safety of one of the nearby alleyways that seemed to dot the entire seaside metropolitan expanse. She carefully sat him down against the wall and knelt in front of the unconscious man, the rear of his cranium leaning back somewhat against the building so it looked as if his closed eyes were staring back up at her as she studied him over, her original fury now superseded with concern for the condition of her friend.

"Vinnie..." she sighed while lightly cupping his chin with her tiny hand, using her thumb to wipe away a smudge of blood on the left side of his mouth. "What happened to you?" She then stood up and turned her head back towards the street while thinning her eyes. The damaged spider was right there, still struggling to stabilize itself, still teetering perilously close to the edge. "That's it, ya overgrown termite..."

With a quick brandish of her shuriken, she charged forth at the beast, intent of getting a little payback. Before she got far, she skidded to a stop and fell flat on her bottom, screeching in surprise as the damaged monstrosity exploded into an amorphous bulk of infernal metal. She heard two more enormous blasts ring out to the left of the alleyway out of sight, and upon emerging, Yuffie saw the two other automatons had followed suit. She caught sight of three smoky streams, signaling that missiles had been the source of the motorized trio's destruction. She followed the clear white streams up into the sky to and saw the aircraft that launched them, which was none other than the Highwind.

"Cid?!" Yuffie exclaimed with a huge grin.

A pair of helicopters then appeared from the city's skyline and hovered some height above her before lowering down and joining in Reno and Rude's aerial fracas against the enemy squadron. The aircraft looked nothing like the ones used by Neo-ShinRa, but were totally identical to the ones her black-suited allies had been piloting. The two new helicopters were Turks gunships.

"This is Scud of the Turks." a different voice broadcasted over the coalition's battle frequency. "Anybody down there read?"

"Madison here." the exhausted raven-haired Turk leader smiled as she looked up to the sky with her back on the ground. "Scud... took you guys long enough."

"Well now," Scud started, his voice rife with a playfully mocking timbre, "We must have missed one hell of a party."

"It's still going on, Scuddy boy." Reno suddenly interjected through the radio, a lighthearted slyness to his tone. "Fashionably late, as always, I see."

"Well, it's hard to get gussied up when you've got a bullet in your abdomen, ha. By the way, we're dropping off Jordon, Lorenzo, and Kaemon to help you guys out on the ground."

"That Gongaga nut job's here?" Reno inquired teasingly, referring to the Turk swordsman, Kaemon.

"Don't start, Reno..." came another voice over the frequency, more serious and sounding somewhat annoyed at his mischievous red-haired counterpart.

The Turk gunship did not even touch down on the ground when the four figures began rappelling down onto the outskirts of the combat zone, the epic clash still raging on. The first Turk to touch the ground quickly unslung her 12-gauge shotgun and fired into the face of a leaping Guard Hound before rushing off to join in the battle, followed by her huge compatriot, who merely cracked his knuckles. The third man wore glasses and had a long scar running down his left cheek from eye to neck. With a blank expression preserved on his face, he swiftly unsheathed a shiny katana and dashed forward, effortlessly cutting down any Neo-ShinRa grunt that got in his way.

The final man touched down and surveyed the scene while taking a long, hard drag from his stick of tobacco. He blew out the smoke after profanely mumbling something about how a few injuries wouldn't_ 'get in the way of his ass whuppin_'.'

"Alright, ya goddamn pieces 'a dirty, worthless shit!" the bandaged sky captain huffed before flicking away his cigarette and giving the Venus Gospel a graceful twirl. "Come get some!"

* * *

**Author's Note: Spliced chapter 12/22/08**


	19. Picking Up the Pieces

**Beyond Paradise II**

_Disclaimer: I do not own Yuffie, Vincent, or anything/anybody else in this fiction, they belong to Square Enix. I also don't own previously established fictitious characters such as Moira, Zeb, or Jethro. They were created by the original fan fic's author, tolerant. Though, I DO claim a childish, unpatented ownership over my original/semi-original characters--Cleon, Questa, Max, Rakk, and Havern Glaire. And the recurring smoking guard. He's tiiight. This is not an "official" sequel by the original author, more like a tribute by me since the original has been discontinued, unfortunately. I am not affiliated with tolerant in any way, shape, or form (other than being a fan, of course)._

**Author's Note: Ha! Schools over till Spring semester. So, we all know Beyond Paradise 2 is nearing the end (*noooo*), which means we've got our last chances fooor--yup, you guessed it: character development. Whether it be romance, friendship, revelations, saving a bunch of money on your car insurance by switching to Geico, all good stories need to take a break from the action (which, looking back now, was like 6 straight chapters and like almost 30,000 words worth) to wind things down and get to know the protagonists on a more personal level, which will somewhat be awkward for me, as well… really only like… 3 or 4 of the squillions of characters in this fic so far are the only ones I can lay any credible original claim to (and that's counting the smoking guard :P) but, it's something I wanna do. Basically, the final chapters preceding the end will completely focus on revealing everybody's motives in the plot and also character interaction/conversation, rather than mostly random poetic filler like I did with the last like, 12 chapters. So without further ado, here's Chapter 29: Plot? What the Hell is That?!**

**

* * *

**  
_Then it all crashes down  
And you break your crown  
And you point your finger  
But there's no one around  
Just want one thing  
Just to play the king  
But the castle's crumbled  
And you're left with just a name_

_King Nothing  
--James Hetfield_

- **Chapter 29: Picking Up the Pieces**

The overcasted gloom of the platinum heavens above seemed to summarize the mentality of the struggle's aftermath. The Battle for Junon had concluded in victory for the ad hoc coalition of ragtag misfits, a diverse alliance of former enemies that banded together to vanquish a greater common foe. Though the outcome was an indisputable triumph with the final pockets of Neo-ShinRa's grand army either routed from the city or apprehended to face justice for their heinous deeds, the winning forces were all but devastated.

The combined might of AVALANCHE, the Turks, NMI, and the Junon militia fought long and hard for near-fruitless gains, and all sides of the conflict received more than their fair share of casualties. AVALANCHE and the Turks were arguably the most fortunate, if having several of your compatriots either kidnapped or incapacitated could be considered so. Indeed, the brutal engagement that had taken place was a turning point in the campaign, but their win was a costly one.

It was truly a Pyrrhic victory, one that would undoubtedly undo the heroes and whatever hope they clung onto should another such 'victory' take place. Max was dead, and with him, the spirits of the dwindling remnants of Norté Magus, Incorporated. Dozens of locals lost their lives fighting to drive out the hated invaders, and more so from that number were hurt or killed from collateral damage issued by the fight. The battle was won, but all telltale signs pointed that the war was just beginning.

Though regardless of such a difficult road lying ahead, the swinging pendulum of vengeance required a push to maintain it's momentum of retribution. Someone would have to raise the fallen banner and rekindle the dying flames of their comrades' passion. Someone would have to motivate them to not at all abate in courage for the loss they sustained, but instead draw from their very anger to gain new force and resolution to press on with the war. Someone would have to exert themselves enough to not necessarily take full charge--as such an act by a single person would undoubtedly cause too many problems and possible infighting due to the individualistic autonomies of the various groups involved--but just enough to give the cause a clear direction to follow towards victory, resolve, and a much sought-after calm.

"Quit yer whinin', ya buncha wimps!" And that someone was Cid Highwind. "Now I know it's hard, believe me, I've lost people dear ta me, too, but ya gotta keep yer heads up and keep on fightin' to make sure those that sacrificed their lives didn't die in vain, ya hear me?!"

He stood facing the entrance of the NMI hideout's courtyard, barking his profane encouragements as the exhausted, moaning survivors lethargically wandered in to find their own spots in the enclosure to collapse onto. Many were too tired to listen, some were too tired to care, but little did they know, his boisterous expletives of hidden wisdom would sink in later.

At first glance, one could identify the bandaged sky captain's raucous homily as insensitive and argue that Cid had little say in the manner, as his arrival into the fray was extremely late, having missed both the warehouse raid and most of the lengthy street fracas, but he proved his worth to all those involved when he took charge and oversaw the beginning of the aftermath's cleanup, directing the city firefighters and civilian volunteers to tend to the wounded, police the bodies, round up the prisoners, and start out to clean the rubble for future reconstruction while AVALANCHE, the Turks, and NMI prepared an operation to finish off their enemies once and for all. The old ShinRa corporation had not promoted Cid Highwind to the rank of captain for nothing.

AVALANCHE, the Turks, and the remaining members of NMI slowly walked passed the heated chain smoker in loose bunches, some supporting injured comrades over their shoulders or cradling them in their arms. One of these people was Madison, and she held a young Mage under her limb while ushering her towards a nearby porch.

The shivering nymph Madison had rescued still clung on desperately to the Turk as the uniformed woman guided her towards the steps of a nearby porch so she could sit down and regain her composure. When she tried to seat her, the teenager tightened her hug around the female Turk's chest and they both plopped down onto the cemented steps together, a rather awkward action that nevertheless put a kindly smile on the sable-haired woman's lips. As she sat there tenderly running her dainty hand through the young girl's hatted hair, the bandanna she was wearing having been lost sometime during the hectic afternoon, Madison contemplated the intensity of emotional devastation she must have endured, wondering what could have driven her to such a condition.

"She's afraid of heights…" a young Mage explained with a light chuckle as he came up, seemingly reading her cerebral question, before he held out his arms to take his friend.

The trembling teenager had not let go of the Turk since she had rescued her from falling to her death, clinging onto Madison like an infant seeking comfort in a maternal sanctuary. She seemed to be in a state of shock, her eyes focused on nothing as her lips vibrated with fear like she was perpetually reliving the ordeal in her head.

Madison gave them a soothing, optimistic smile as she softly handed over the pierced youth she had saved from the perilous drop. "Will she be alright?"

"She'll be good." he replied as the girl clutched onto her fellow gang member. "She's just shaken up."

Madison nodded warmly at this and turned to walk over to the taciturn group of black-suited individuals congregating in the corner of the courtyard. Save for the injured Elena sitting on the steps of a porch within the party, they stood solemnly in a loose cluster, facing one another while conversing in hushed tones.

Everything about them broadcasted a company-trained professionalism, despite the fact that the very conglomerate they used to work for had collapsed long ago and recycled itself into the far more criminally malevolent Neo-ShinRa, whom they held with little to no regard. The 10 freelance Turks turned towards the approaching Madison and bowed their heads in acknowledgement before she inquired to the condition of the comatose Tseng and Rufus.

The whole atmosphere of the NMI hideout was brooding. The vicinity was quiet and lugubrious, the blue-clothed inhabitants within dismally funereal, singing silent laments for their many fallen brethren. The drained street punks remained more or less noiseless as they mourned their losses, and the fact that the faces of their slain comrades were replaced with business-suited introverts only increased the misery they tried so hard to suppress. Still, you could almost feel the sorrow in the air. Much blood had been spilled that afternoon on what was sure to be remembered as one of the most eventful days in Junon's history, right up there with the WEAPON attack, but it did not take long for the silence to be shattered by the sound of a shrill, obnoxious voice.

"Get out of the way!" Many faces turned towards the loud young girl making a scene.

The rude little ninja's uncouth demands were not without merit, however, as her outbursts stemmed from the worry she felt for her unconscious companion, Vincent Valentine. Yuffie opened up a clear path for the knocked out gunslinger, and ordered for the person whom she forced to carry him to set him down in an outdoor couch on a corner of the globular porch that encircled most of the courtyard. An extremely annoyed Cleon huffed heavily in irritation as he heaved the tall, thin frame of Vincent onto the sofa.

"Hey, watch it!" Yuffie chastised as she fixed the marksman's position on the couch. Cleon had just casually dropped Vincent into an awkward sprawl. The little ninja then turned to stare fiercely back up at the long-haired teenager, who was, to her surprise, panting in fatigue. "What the hell, you're tired already?"

"You made me carry his ass for like, three straight levels." Cleon grumbled back as he thinned his eyes at her. A small stream of blood had dried on his chin, tracing back to the side of his mouth from something that had happened to him in the earlier hostilities. "It was a long walk."

"He weighs as much as a baby Chocobo, why are you complaining?"

"Well why the fuck didn't _you _just carry him then, smart mouth?"

"How can somebody so big and muscly be so outta shape?!" she challenged while punching into his firm chest. "How do you even maintain your physique if your so freakin' lazy?"

"Just give me back my Materia."

"Fine, fine..." Yuffie took out a small bag from her pocket filled with much of Cleon's Materia. She had stolen them in order to shanghai the long-haired Mage to help her.

"They better all be here." he grumbled with a sneer while opening the bag.

"They are, I promise. Shinobi's honor!"

Cleon gave her an annoyed grunt. "Now, just leave me alone."

"Aww, why?" she teased spitefully while pouting her lips in the most sarcastic way possible. "I just asked you for this one thing!"

"You made me make my Ifrit summon dig out your Materia from the inn, too!"

"Oh yeah…" she reminisced with a snicker, "The look on it's face when you told it to do that! It was so pissed off! It's like, _'you summoned me to barbeque soldiers, not dig through 500 tons of rubble!'_"

Yuffie took the time to finish laughing at her own joke before taking another look at the unconscious Vincent. A stark contrast to her various, loudly vociferous emotions up until that point, a solemnity immediately gripped her delicate features. Her eyes drooped and the sides of her lips lowered into a slight frown, as if saddened by his current condition.

_Vincent, wake up..._ she thought to herself as she rested her gentle gaze on him, forgetting everything else that was happening in the world at that moment and seemingly focusing on willing him back into consciousness. Abruptly, she then rushed down from the porch onto the courtyard. "Hey, does anyone have a Phoenix Down?"

As she continued echoing her question over and over again to no avail, Cleon continued to place his reclaimed Materia into the slots of either of his gauntlets, counting each luminescent orb to make sure they were all accounted for. As he slotted his last few Materia, he found himself observing the knocked out gunslinger. He lowered his brows at the enigma laying motionless before him, as if wondering how all the might and valiance of such a mythically infinite warrior of the ages could be personified into such a frail-looking figure. The relative calm of the vicinity now allowed his mind to wander as he always allowed it to, and he looked down on the marksman, trying to decipher the mystery of this paradox of a human, purely out of boredom.

He neglected to dwell on the matter before, but after giving it some thought, he began to piece things together. He studied the gunslinger's attire, his pupils shooting to every inch of his body. Leather bodysuit, golden talons, pale skin, long unkempt hair, red tattered cape, the brooding, somber personality, and strangest of all, those blood red eyes.

After some moments of adding this all up, he realized that the hockey-masked monstrosity that had rampaged through the streets of Junon to bring an apocalyptical obliteration to the ranks of Neo-ShinRa was actually the individual lying down before him, an apprehension he had overlooked thus far. As soon as the notion clicked, he cringed his face in shock and took a step back, then scampered towards the little ninja.

"Yuffie-Yuffie-hey-hey-hey-hey," he blabbered next to her while rapidly flailing his limp hands in front of him, "Is he… is he a vampire?"

Yuffie winced in confusion, taken aback at such a random inquiry. "What're you talking about?"

Cleon protruded his eyes at her, tilted his head to the side and twitched it towards the couch, referring to the unconscious marksman. "The y'know…" he began to mutter a series of incoherent noises in place of words, a sentence incomprehensibly babbled as if she would understand him.

"Huh? Why, are you afraid of vampires or something?"

"Afraid of vampires? Of course not! Why would I be afraid of vampires? And why would you even ask that question? Is he a vampire or somethin'? 'Cause that's kind of a weird thing'na ask for no reason!"

"He's not a vampire, ya idiot! Yeah, he might look like it, but he's not."

"But the eyes, and the cape! And he turned into this chainsaw-zombie-monster thingy!"

"Vampires are supposed to turn into _bats_, Cleon."

"…Well, what about that one movie where the guy turned into a _wolf_! See, it doesn't have to be just bats."

"Okay, tell me this, how does he go out in the sun then, huh? Vampires can't--"

"_Dracula_ could go out in the sun."

"Wha…? Dracula was a low-budget holiday half-puppet that ran on a late-night cable-access miniseries on the Midgar Channel! And he had no reflection! Vincent has a reflection! And he doesn't drink blood."

"Dracula drank blood."

"I'm talking about Vincent!"

"Think about this carefully now… when you hang out with him, did you ever see him drink any mysterious red liquid substances?"

"No! …And actually, he's always by himself most of the time."

"There, see! He could be preyin' on unsuspecting citizens when you're--"

"It's just cause of his old girlfriend, num nuts!"

"His girlfriend's a vampire, too?!"

"No, moron! Something about his old love and Hojo and Sephiroth and an experiment gone wrong, I dunno the whole story. I never asked myself. Wait, why are we even _having _this ridiculous conversation?"

"So what you're sayin' is that you don't know whether or not he's a vampire or not!"

"He's not a vampire!"

"But you can't be sure about that."

"Well, _you _can't be sure if he _is _a vampire."

"Exactly."

"I…" Yuffie flinched. "…Wait, _what_?!"

"Does he have fangs?"

"No!"

"He acts like a vampire."

"How?!"

"He's quiet."

"He's just like that cause he's still butt-hurt over this thing that happened like a gazillion years ago! Something about his sin or whatever."

"Sin? You mean like, turning into a bat and swooping down into the necks of--!"

"Will you stop that?! It's 'cause of this whole thing about how he failed to stop Sephiroth from being born. That's what he told us when we found him in the coffin, he was like--'"

"You found him in a coffin?!"

"No! Well, yeah, but it's nothing like what you think."

"How can that be not what I think, you found him in a fuc--"

"_No_, you're not _listening _to me…" she huffed slowly, her head hung low with her fingers rubbing the bridge of her nose as if suppressing a growing migraine. If any of her fellow AVALANCHE members could see them now, they would probably say that Yuffie Kisaragi had finally met her match. "…He was in there because of something about feeling guilty 'cause he couldn't stop Sephiroth from being born, then some fugly-ass geezer stole his girlfriend, then she killed herself or whatever and he got all glum cause he lost her, then he got experimented on, then he locked himself in a coffin to try to atone for his sins in some weird-ass, twisted form of self-punishment, and ever since then he's been quiet and serious, which explains why he's all dark, 'cause he feels guilty from all the horrible crap that happened to him."

There was a lengthy silence between the duo, as if the words were sinking in.

"…So he's a _depressed_ vampire."

"God-_DAMMIT_!!"

They both then gasped as they suddenly heard a cough to their side from Vincent. Without missing a beat, Yuffie rushed up to her comrade and knelt down beside him. The gunslinger sluggishly opened his ruby hues and his vision gradually readjusted enough to see two things: a cracked, tiled ceiling and a gigantically grinning Yuffie Kisaragi.

"HEEEY!" she shouted with her ridiculously huge smile. "Rise and shine, Sleeping Beauty!" He let off a light sigh, but that failed to stop the young girl's earsplitting rampage. "Oh my GAWD! You were out for the longest time, you know! I had to carry you all the way here!"

They both looked up at the sound of a snort, and saw Cleon glaring the Wutaian princess a frustrated reprimand.

"Yeah, yeah…" Yuffie conceded. "Well, maybe I didn't actually 'carry' you, but well, I told him to do it, same difference!" Her already huge grin actually seemed to grow in size, her adolescent nature wishing to take full credit to impress the gunslinger and win his approval. "So the important thing is, you're still breathing, and that's all thanks to me, the great ninja Yuffie! …And Cleon, to a lesser extent." she quickly mumbled the latter.

Vincent had just woken up, his blurring vision had not even fully adjusted yet, and he was already being pestered by the young princess of Wutai. He then switched his gaze back to the long-haired teenager, and was surprised to find him scowling straight at him for some reason the ex-Turk could not comprehend.

"…I got my eye on you." Cleon stated with a defiant twitch of his chin before sauntering off.

Yuffie scoffed as the Mage left before looking back down at the slightly confused Vincent while shaking her head.

"Seems like I've missed quite a bit." he quietly remarked as he slowly laid his head down onto the couch, half his face obstructed by his high collar.

"Aww, don't mind him. He's a nut job."

After a short pause, Vincent gave a small, lighthearted scoff. "I'll bet. But I was referring more to that." He raised his head and looked further down his body.

"What…?" She slowly followed his gaze, and was absolutely startled to find that her left hand was resting on top of his waist of all places, astonishingly close to a certain unspeakable part of his body. "Oh! I-I'm sorry…" she speedily offered while darting her hand away, her face now flushed a bright red with her chest suddenly beating like a frenzied drum.

Discerning that her tiny, hyperventilated breaths were uncomfortably noticeable only served to deepen the nervous blush that was heating up her cheeks, despite the chilly temperature of the current weather. An instinct surged through her and she instantaneously swerved the subject off the deep end for the benefit of her reflexed defense.

"Why didn't you tell me my hand was there, you pervert?!" she barked, regardless of the fact that it was _her _hand near _his _certain region.

Sarcastically, Vincent gave her one of those short, completely serious chuckles. "I just noticed it myself, but if I could lift my arms right now, I would have moved you off."

Yuffie growled and quickly shot up to her feet. "You've got some nerve, Vincent Valentine!" she scolded with her hands on her hips, throwing in a wag of her finger for good measure. "And to think I risked my neck for you, just to be embarrassed like that by your depraved, perverted-ass tendencies!" But no matter how hard she tried to feign fury, she just could not get rid of that blush.

"Sounds like Mr. Valentine's up." Jethro announced from the opposite end of the courtyard.

"Oh, thank goodness." Tifa added with a relieved smile.

"And it looks like he's a'ready in the shit." Cid grumbled, referring to the little ninja's uninterrupted diatribe, before taking another puff of his cigarette.

"Cid!" Tifa chided playfully while slapping the sky captain on the shoulder, who just blithely sneered in response.

She then took another look at the scene across the courtyard of Vincent and Yuffie. Most of the speech being huffed by the hotheaded Wutaian princess was relatively inaudible due to the distance, save for a few especially shouted terms here and there, but her words were legible enough through her actions and gestures, her tumultuous gesticulations expressing anger and contempt as opposed to Vincent's eternally calm, unreadably blank stare.

Sometime during her dramatic tirade, Vincent found the strength to attempt to lift himself up, but stopped midway and seemed to groan in pain, causing Yuffie to stop herself and somehow completely switch to the role of concerned friend.

Tifa giggled at this, then turned towards her smoking companion, thinning her eyes in curiosity at the stick of tobacco in-between his fingers. "Cid, aren't those bad for you? Y'know, considering your condition?"

"Hey, don't start that! I got enough shit from Shera and that goddamn doctor! Now I'll smoke if I wanna; ain't gonna make no difference, anyhow. Hell, even that doctor said himself, _'you are recovering unnaturally fast, Mr. Highwind,'_" he said in an enunciated tone, trying to mock the doctor's precise manner of speaking, "Or however the hell he said it."

"Yeah, but--"

"'Ey-'ey," he squawked and took a deep puff before continuing, "Save yer breath, my mind's made up, woman!" He then exhaled the smoke and some of it blew into Jethro's face.

"Hey!" he cringed, waving the mist from his eyes.

"Sorry, man."

"Alright, everyone, listen up!" Questa suddenly spoke up from the middle of the courtyard, a growing drizzle beginning to drop from the overcast sky. "It's startin'na rain, so we should all get indoors now, get some rest. Tonight at 8, everybody meet up in the war room and we'll discuss our next move. Mages, I'm countin' on you to help out our guests with whatever they need."

The 15 or so gang members gave their crestfallen acknowledgements and listlessly beckoned the flock of Turks to follow them into various doorways for shelter against the cold and growing rain. A few NMIs remained on the circular porch to lounge, same as a very hyper Yuffie Kisaragi, and a very tired Vincent Valentine, who would be unable to move even if he wanted to, due to his injuries. There was no escape for the incapacitated gunslinger.

--

The icy ad-hoc tarmac presented no problem for the expensive ShinRa-grade private jet as it landed. It slowly rolled to a stop near a large group of waiting people before a ramp lowered from it's side. A couple of workers came up, opened up a hatch on the side of the aircraft, and began unloading the supply crates and boxes of ammunition onto a nearby pickup truck while the passengers disembarked.

The passengers filed down onto the tundra and started for the assembly that was waiting for them, a pair of plump individuals wearing extra-layered fur coats for the cold with several lines of armed infantrymen idly standing at attention behind them. Havern Glaire, Zebadiah Mahonney, and Don Corneo approached the two corpulent businessmen with their own entourage, a foursome of mercenaries they linked up with at Gongaga.

They were two males and two females, but the oddest thing about them--besides the fact that they all wore matching spandex outfits with tactical applications and various geometrical patterns of blue lines--was that they were all just kids, probably ranging from their early teens to the latter spectrum. Interestingly, they were the only four on the whole permafrost not wearing any warm clothing whatsoever, but they did not seem bothered at all by the freezing temperatures, which was strange considering that even the comatose Cloud was wrapped in a thick blanket. He was being effortlessly carried over the shoulder of one of the males mercenaries, a long-haired youth roughly the same height as the unconscious AVALANCHE leader, but more muscular in size.

"Good to see you all made it." came an overly-jovial voice as the passengers approached. "I trust the trip was nice and speedy."

"Yes, Mr. Palmer." Zeb Mahonney answered before all seven of the individuals gave a bow to the overweight executives.

"Good, good!" he guffawed. "But that's a drop of good news in a whole bucket full of bad news!"

"Sir?" Don Corneo inquired while shivering under his thick parka.

"We've received word a few hours ago that the army has been routed." announced the taller one in a much more serious tone than his flamboyant counterpart. The three Neo-ShinRa officers almost simultaneously drew back a sharp breath upon hearing such outrageous news. "The survivors have boarded their transport choppers and are en route to Modeoheim. With early estimates, it appears that only 47 of the 300 troops we sent to Junon are coming back. Now, that does not bother me as much as the fact that over twice that number was captured by the enemy, and you know what we discussed concerning what would happen if our troops were captured by the enemy."

The three officers each gave a _'yes sir,'_ but that was not enough for the executive.

"I want to hear you _say_ it!" he snapped, his voice expressing the anger but his demeanor maintaining a professional calm. "Straight from the handbook I wrote, now! What happens when our troops get captured by the enemy?!"

"The enemy interrogates our troops and learn everything about Neo-ShinRa," the trio recited simultaneously while staring down their noses. "Sending shockwaves throughout the Planet and causing millions of Lifestream supporters to turn against us before we have time to build up our power."

"Precisely." he huffed with his hands still behind his back. "Now will somebody please explain to me, _'why'_ we suffered defeat at the hands of such a small mishmash of terrorists, suit monkeys, and homeless teenaged vagabonds?!" A vein seemed to be pulsating on his forehead, right next to the long, hideous scar lining his right eye. "Well?!"

"Mr. Heidegger," Havern spoke up hesitantly as she raised her gaze to lock with his, "I accept full responsibility. The archived information on my laptop was hacked into by the Turks, and the documents it held must have proved evidence enough for the townspeople to defect from the anti-AVALANCHE rebels over to the enemy's side."

"Is that so?" Heidegger bellowed with a cold demeanor. He turned to Palmer, Zeb, Corneo, and the youthful mercenaries. "You are all dismissed. Get into the base and await further orders. Miss Glaire," he snarled with an upwards indentation, "I would like to have a word with you, alone, please."

Havern remained at attention with her gaze preserved to her forefront as the others walked passed her, Heidegger's stone-hard stare never once leaving the ebony-skinned woman. As he got out of their sight, Don Corneo smirked to himself at his rebellious secretary's predicament, pleased that she was about to receive a reprimand he felt she fully deserved. Heidegger deliberately waited for the six individuals to leave ear shot.

"Miss Glaire," he started, his manner stern and sober, "Tell me… why did you join this company?"

There was a short pause as Havern thought about her answer. "Sir, I joined because I wanted to… I wanted to be part of the finest organization the world has ever seen."

"Is that so?" he queried in all seriousness, his hands still cuffed behind his back.

"Yes, sir. When the ShinRa Electric Power Company collapsed, I was left without a direction in life. As soon I received word of Neo-ShinRa's aspirations, it peaked my interest. And when I heard that you were spearheading the operation, sir, I was riveted that your expertise was at the wheel. In all honesty, I felt the rule of President Shinra and his son was weak, that they were holding back on too much, so many missed opportunities. I joined because I wanted to be part of greatness."

"You joined because you wanted power." he corrected her.

Havern faltered for a moment before replying. "Yes, sir."

"Now tell me, why did you accept full responsibility for the defeat of the army?"

"…Sir?"

"I already know it was none of theirs or your fault. I ordered the marshaling of the forces, and I signed the order to send them to Junon with orders to terminate anybody and anything that got in their way of eradicating AVALANCHE and their allies. It was inevitable that their introduction to the public eye would irreversibly show the world that ShinRa was back with a vengeance, and was even more ruthless than ever. Still, why did you accept full responsibility?"

"Sir, it's because…" she hesitated, not knowing what to say. "It's because…"

"Because you are the most responsible out of all my officers. But that is not what I am looking for in my underlings."

"I apologize, sir." she said with a quick bow.

"Miss Glaire," he said while raising his eyes to the darkening skies above, "You have always been the most efficient, well-disciplined, loyal, respectful, and focused individual in my entire organization. That is why I entrusted you and you alone with archiving the entire company's most valuable records and statistical information. You have always respected your superiors and maintained the most rigid regimen of professionalism, even under pressure… even when it was not required."

Havern drew a small, sharp breath as she heard this, but succeeded in concealing the fumble in her appearance. A pessimistic fear was slowly building up in her chest, but she did well to hide that, too.

"I've read your old ShinRa dossier." Heidegger continued. "I know how you absolutely despise paperwork and desk labor. You used to be one of the most promising young troopers in the whole SOLDIER program. Your callousness and aggression earned you a long-awaited elevation to the status of SOLDIER, 1st class. Tell me, Miss Glaire, what happened to you? Tell me, why? I mean, truthfully, tell me why you were so professional in your works in this company as opposed to the original ShinRa corporation? You have permission to speak as candidly as you wish."

Havern remained silent for a good long while as she chose her words. "…Sir, I was told by my superiors in the original ShinRa corporation that my lack of focus, defiance against orders, and overzealous violence was the reason why I was so late in gaining my promotion to First. I took a different approach in your organization, thinking that… well, prior to my employment, I was summa cum laude in my alma maters. I thought that I should refocus myself in your organization and use knowledge instead of savagery. It's because I thought that, if I could stand out like that, that I might be noticed as the most qualified employee under your leadership. I thought you needed--"

"This organization needs WARRIORS, Miss Glaire." he interrupted her, starting to yell. "It needs RUTHLESSNESS, DEDICATION, and COLD-BLOODED CRUELTY!! Not a bunch of pitiful, spineless desk jockeys and secretaries! I look down on such rubbish, it's an establishment's greatest advertisement of weakness!!"

"Yes, sir…" Havern offered as she choked back a yelp, cynically anticipating a dreadful outcome to wherever he was going with this.

"Don Corneo gave me a call while you were all at Gongaga. He informed me of your alleged rebelliousness and growing disobedience towards him."

Havern maintained a straight face, but she was boiling inside at the man who had stabbed her in the back. _Fucking son of a bitch sold me out…_

"Listen to me, Miss Glaire. I do not tolerate insubordination. I do not tolerate disloyalty. And I especially do not tolerate any signs of WEAKNESS in MY ORGANIZATION!!" Havern visibly winced at his outburst. "And then I heard about your hand in the whole Junon incident. This is why I am…" he paused while he turned his back to her and looked at the ranks of troops, a foreboding omen that actually sent a chill down the secretary's spine as she awaited for him to continue, "…promoting you."

She stopped holding her breath and widened her eyes in utter shock. "S-sir?"

"As of this moment," he said while turning back towards her with the same stonehearted mien. "I am officially giving you full command of our military."

The tremendous burden of anxiety lifted from her body, and was subsequently filled up with a feeling of accomplishment and exhilarated ecstasy. She bowed down low in all her humility and rose back up to give the man an enthusiastic salute.

"Thank you, sir." she accepted with newfound confidence as she stood back at attention, her whole demeanor now filled with pride as she fought to suppress the triumphant smile that struggled to raise the sides of her lips.

"Don't get all teary-eyed on me now, woman." he half-joked with a low chuckle. "Especially after what we just discussed. I am expecting you to lead with an iron fist and bring merciless destruction to our enemies. I chose you as the greatest candidate by far after General Lang's demise at Junon for a reason. You really did not expect me to fire you and leave myself to choose between that secretive bastard Mahonney or that sniveling, perverted coward from the Slums, did you?"

Relishing the fact that he was on her side in the matter concerning her loathed subordinates, Havern answered by slowly giving way to the grin that she was working to hold back, but kept her eyes in determined focus, prompting a feeling of satisfaction from her superior.

"Gya ha ha ha!" he chortled with his infamous horse laugh out of approval. "Well, go address your new troops… General Glaire."

The sun had disappeared over the rocky horizon as a light snowfall began to blanket the wintry expanse. Havern authoritatively stepped up to the ranks of infantry standing loyally at attention, with Heidegger off to her side, watching on with his hands cuffed behind him.

"Are all soldiers present?" Heidegger started.

"Yes sir!" came the unanimous answer.

Havern closed her eyes and took a deep breath, taking her time to enjoy the sweet, mountain air. "Attention all soldiers," Havern spoke up with a staunch competency, "I am your new commander, General Havern Glaire."

"Good evening, ma'am!" they greeted in perfect harmony. "It will be a pleasure to be working for you!"

Havern Glaire's chest swelled with pride upon hearing the voices of dozens of professional troops bending to her whim and referring to her with such respect to her authority. She felt an impassioned fervor surging through her veins as she fought back tears of euphoria at finally achieving her dream of success, a goal she had no time to enjoy back during her stint in ShinRa, Incorporated, due to the company's downfall at the hands of Diamond WEAPON mere days after her promotion to SOLDIER, 1st class. More importantly to the fledgling general officer, with her new promotion in Neo-ShinRa, she was finally given allowance to cease her conservative secretary charade and unleash her inner beast.

* * *

**Author's Note: Wow I hope this turned out good, I kept rearranging bits and pieces between this and the upcoming chapter 30. This was originally gonna be a lot longer, I cut out a whole section focusing on Jethro, but I'll work that into the next chapter. I hope to have it ready by the end of the week, unlike the whole frickin' fortnight I spent getting this chapter out to you guys. Anyways, keep an eye out for Chapter 30: My Friends of Misery. Yeah I know this chapter was supposed to be My Friends of Misery, but okay here, next is My Friends of Misery, and Chapter 31 is planned to be The Dynamic Duo. Ohhh Yuffentine. :P**


	20. Decisions, Decisions

**Beyond Paradise II**

_Disclaimer: I do not own Yuffie, Vincent, or anything/anybody else in this fiction, they belong to Square Enix. I also don't own previously established fictitious characters such as Moira, Zeb, or Jethro. They were created by the original fan fic's author, tolerant. Though, I DO claim a childish, unpatented ownership over my original/semi-original characters--Cleon, Questa, Max, Rakk, and Havern Glaire. And the recurring smoking guard. He's tiiight. This is not an "official" sequel by the original author, more like a tribute by me since the original has been discontinued, unfortunately. I am not affiliated with tolerant in any way, shape, or form (other than being a fan, of course)._

**Author's Note: I'm back, baby. Much more to come after this. **

* * *

_Blackened is the end  
Winter it will send  
Throwing all you see  
Into obscurity  
Death of Mother Earth  
Never a rebirth  
Evolution's end  
Never will it mend  
Never_

_Blackened  
--James Hetfield_

_-_ **Chapter 30: Decisions, Decisions**

"No, we have to act _now_, goddammit!" Cid hollered while pounding his fist on the table. "They'll least expect it, and look, we got 'em on the run!"

"For god's sake," Questa rejoined from the other side of the table, sluggishly rubbing the bridge of her nose, "Look at the Mages; my people, my family! We're exhausted! We lost over half our fuckin' number in one day's time, and our war chief got torn apart by a pack of mutant dog monsters, and all you have to say is to keep on goin' without a breather or even time to think about those we lost?! Give us a fuckin' moment, will ya?!"

As Cid delivered his profanity-laced rebuttal, Tifa sighed and idly scanned the 'war room' of NMI's hideout; a very large, surprisingly well-decorated living space filled with many assortments of furniture arranged in a clustered circular pattern around the main table, which was set up in the middle of the cozy chamber. The couches and seats were filled with men and women dressed in either black suits or street attire prominently leaning towards the blue spectrum. A few were standing, but everyone seemed to be completely focused on the argument at hand.

The raven-haired bartender redirected her gaze towards the table just as Questa sneered at Cid's notion of a spent enemy with it's pools of reserve units more or less as depleted as they are going to get. "This whole goddamn army could have just been a drop in the bucket for these bastards. That thought ever cross your mind?"

"Yeah, think about it," a voice spoke up from the crowd, a common occurrence since the meeting had started, a pre-established accord to accept any and all input towards the discussion having already been agreed upon, "Like, if we all went over there for a final showdown under the assumption that their numbers are exhausted, but then like, we get there and get completely wiped out by a whole legion of ShinRa spider robots or like, super-tanks."

"Or hell," another gang member adjoined with an austere scoff, "Somethin' else we haven't even seen yet."

A younger NMI near the doorway shook her head before voicing her opinion, "But then the longer we wait, potentially, the stronger they get."

The opposing retort from a same-sided attendee showcasing the diversity of opinions, even within an adolescent coterie as ostensibly close-knit as the Mages, was not lost on the others in this unlikely coalition of former foes. The wide range of surprisingly uncharacteristic wisdom from a street gang comprised of what most of Junon perceived to be nothing more than a mishmash of troublemaking, hot-headed youths had quietly earned Norté Magus, Incorporated a solemn respect among the rest of the older, more mature members of the alliance's improbable factions.

"Right," one of the Turks added, "Regardless of how you look at it, whether it's the safest bet or not, the logical thing to do appears to be an immediate counter-attack."

"Let's just say we did decide to retaliate right now," Jethro decided to speak up from his corner, "What would we do? What would the plan be?"

Cid snorted in response, hawked up what sounded like a rather large collection of phlegm, and moved his head to the side in order to characteristically spit on the carpet, but froze himself at the last second once catching the scowls of Questa and several other Mages behind her. After a short pause, he rolled his eyes in defiance, angrily readjusted himself on his seat, and made the effort to fabricate the sound of the swallowing of his salivated warhead so loud as to warrant a scoff of contempt from his congressional rivals. "We just attack 'em head on! That'd be what they'd least expect!"

"Or," Questa lashed back, "_'Exactly'_ what they'd expect?"

"What possible reason could you have to not strike back as soon as possible?!"

"Cid…" Tifa tried to calm her friend.

"Naw, I wanna know! Go ahead, enlighten me, missy!"

Tifa dropped her gaze to the floor, an racking tingle of embarrassment creeping through her veins. The meeting had just started, and already the discussion had grown into a heated debate with two sides struggling for dominance.

"Look, man, one advantage of waiting it out a bit… I mean, look. This whole secret's out, right? I mean, Neo-ShinRa's been exposed and these anti-AVALANCHE rebels you guys've been talkin' about have finally seen the truth and defected back to the good side, right? Think about it. If we wait awhile to just get organized, a week or two, maybe even a few days if we work fast enough, it's possible we could get an entire army together to finally wipe out Neo-ShinRa once and for all! They'd never be able to take on the whole fuckin' world! Look at all those people that helped us fight today. Half of 'em were part of the mob that we fought with in front of the inn before it blew up. The other half were brave, beautiful motherfuckers who decided to man up and help drive Neo-ShinRa outta their home!"

"Yeah," an NMI seated on the couch behind Questa spoke up, "If Junon'll fight, the rest of the world will, too. Remember what happened after Meteorfall, and the Lifestream itself shot out to stop Meteor from destroying the Planet. It was all over the news, headlines, everywhere, that everybody realized how precious the Lifestream is, and that nobody would use the Lifestream anymore as a power source. ShinRa couldn't count on the people anymore so they could never make a profit off the Lifestream again."

"Neo-ShinRa's doing the same thing," the young woman next to him added, "But the difference is that Neo-ShinRa's only using the Lifestream wells for funding to take over the world through force instead of through monopolies like original ShinRa did. That rules out the support of the people, so the people will fight on our side against Neo-ShinRa."

"But the longer we wait to build up our forces," said Jethro, "Gives Neo-ShinRa the same amount of time to build up their forces."

"Yeah, but who the hell would fight for Neo-ShinRa?"

"You saw all those troopers shooting at us today." Reno chimed in from his corner amongst the other Turks. "No matter how messed up a cause can get, the world's always gonna be full of mercenaries willing to join up if the price is right."

"And that's what's gonna encapsulate this entire thing." one of the veteran NMIs, Rakk, stated. "You're all looking at it like it's a black and white issue. There's validity in both sides to the argument. Think about it, Questa. The longer we wait, the more people are gonna join up with the enemy. At the same time, people are gonna join up with us. This could be a figurative powder keg just waiting to explode into a world war the likes of which we've never seen."

"He's right," added Madison, "If that happens, untold thousands could perish…"

"But it could all be avoided if we just march right over there and take those sons a--!"

"If we _do_ decide to attack," a soft voice suddenly spoke behind Cid to cut off his fuse, "We can't just rush things too much. We need to have a very well-thought plan to ensure that as few people get hurt as possible." Cid sighed as Tifa gently placed her hands on his shoulders. "This isn't the time to just charge in, guns blazing, Cid. There's things we need to consider; strategies, backup plans, the element of surprise…" Cid dropped his eyes to the floor and batted the side of his lip, taking the views of one his closest friends and allies into consideration.

Astonishingly, a stillness blanketed the room as the tension in the air actually seemed to halve in proportion after the young woman's approach. She had not said much, but there was a genuine, innocent tranquility in her presence and a hope-filled honesty that hugged her every word. Nobody was the wiser, but her sagaciously judicious insight stemmed from a hidden concern she harbored for a very important person in her life that had been taken away from her time and time again.

"So just what are you proposing, Miss Lockhart?" All eyes turned to Jethro. "Do you have some sort of idea?"

"Well, you all made excellent points. Rushing over there without a plan would be a death sentence, but if we don't do something anyway, they could get stronger. Maybe even too strong for us to handle. Also, if we do wait and recruit more people and build up our own army… well, it sounds like a good idea at first, but think about the long term effects of such a thing. You guys are right in how thousands of people could die. This could all become a catalyst for a huge war that would devastate everybody the world over. Thousands could lose their lives, maybe even millions… entire _cities_ would be devastated, laid to ruin; dozens of Midgars, except worse."

"You suggestin' we do this ourselves?" inquired a Mage across from her with an eyebrow raised.

"To prevent a world war, yes. It's not impossible."

"So how do we actually pull this off, then?"

"Do we all go over to… whatever the hell that place is called and--"

"Modeoheim."

"To Modeoheim and like, lay siege to their headquarters or something?"

"Naw, she's talkin' bout cloak and dagger, foo. A small team can sneak in better than three dozen."

"Sounds like a job for the Turks!"

"Like hell it does! Leave it 'ta us!"

"Don't underestimate the Turks, old man!"

"Bullshit! We whooped yer candy asses every time you tried 'ta mess with us!"

"He's got a pretty valid point, Reno." dumbfounded, the red-haired Turk simply gawked at Madison's support of his former enemy. "Remember, they avoided the whole of ShinRa for a very long time and even managed to infiltrate the headquarters and all those bases and reactors. They might be better suited for Modeoheim."

"And that Vincent Valentine is going to go with them. I hate to admit it, but he's stronger than all of us combined."

"Et tu, Rude?"

"…"

"Alright, so it's settled. We'll infiltrate the enemy base and take out their leaders. If we can cut the head off the snake, it'll be easier for the rest of the company to break apart."

"You sure their whole chain of command's gonna be there, though?"

"It's a chance they'll have to take. And even they're not all there, we can always just hunt the rest of 'em down, y'know."

"Yeah, don't look at this like a quick fix situation. No matter what we decide to do, taking out a corporation as big as Neo-ShinRa's gonna take time and effort."

"It's not like in the movies where we just blow up their headquarters and suddenly it's party time."

"Though, it's been known to happen."

"What the hell are the odds of that, though?"

"…So then what are the rest of us gonna do, then?"

"If you remember the documents AVALANCHE showed us, Neo-ShinRa's got assets across the globe."

"Yeah, like the Mako reactors, those munitions transport routes or whatever…"

"Top priority is shutting down those Mako reactors for good. That's supposed to be the source of their income."

"How many are there?"

"Well…"

"Hey, could somebody get the documents? They're upstairs in that manila envelope under my mattress."

"I got it."

"The underwater one here in Junon's definitely still active. That's what those guys in the warehouse were stationed there for, to protect the reactor."

"There could still be some leftover guards down there."

"Won't be a problem for NMI."

"Watch out for those giant spider robots, though. And SOLDIERs, too, like the ones heading those troops today at the battle."

"They weren't SOLDIERs." Jethro almost immediately declared to the new Turk without missing a beat. "Believe me."

"What makes you so sure?"

Rude scoffed. "Because he _was_ one."

"That one near Costa del Sol…" Elena said in a low voice due to the pain she still felt from her injuries. She was slumped wearily on an armchair next to Madison, looking quite sleepy, but she still remembered what she had read from the documents the night before.

"We can hit that reactor, too." Questa answered with a nod.

"And don't forget the eight all the way in Midgar."

"Leave those to the _Turks_, yo."

"You guys need more men?" inquired Questa. "Midgar's a big place."

"Don't worry about us," came the red-haired Turk's response, "I got a few favors to call in from some old friends. They're staying in that new town being built near Midgar… Ledge, or Edge, or whatever."

"'Kay, but what about you guys?" Questa asked while turning to Tifa.

"We'll be fine, thanks."

"No, I insist, please. I'll feel better if a Mage goes with you to Modeoheim."

"Well…"

"If you're worried a Mage'll slow you down, don't trip. I'll give you one of our best."

"Okay, then..."

"So then we're agreed?"

Several murmurs and nods were the answer. Rakk then jogged down the stairs and handed Questa the Neo-ShinRa documents Yuffie and Vincent had stolen the day before. She flipped through them for a few seconds, focusing on the important information the late Cait Sith had highlighted and circled the previous night.

"Yeah, just those reactors in Midgar, Costa del Sol, Modeoheim, and the one here."

Madison gave a little motherly rub on Elena's forehead before standing up. "Okay, to clarify, we got the Turks on Midgar, NMI to Costa del Sol and Junon, and AVALANCHE is going to Modeoheim."

"Right, and according to these documents, there aren't many people stationed at any of these bases, anyway, and we already cleared out the Junon warehouse. There should be less than thirty at Costa del Sol, cause there's supposed to be around twenty-five to thirty at each base… except for Midgar which had close to a hundred."

"_'Had'_ or _'has'_? After today's battle and the marshaling of that whole army, who knows how reliable those records are now."

"One thing's for sure, though. Neo-ShinRa's not stupid, so if Modeoheim really is their main base of operations, they should know that Modeoheim would be the most logical target for us, so they should be gathering most of their forces over there because they should be expecting a counter-attack."

"And they're gonna get it!"

"Yes… but hopefully, what they _won't_ be expecting is that we're not doing anymore large-scale, high-profile raids. All just cloak and dagger infiltrations, nice and quick, nice and quiet."

"It'd probably be best if we hit all the locations at once, yo."

"Yeah, so they don't have a place to fall back to."

"We'll have to work quick, then. Costa del Sol's a long ride from here."

"We could take you guys on the Highwind, it'd only take a few hours."

"Thanks," Rakk offered, "But you're needed at Modeoheim. You guys have the most dangerous assignment, so you'll need all the rest you can get, Cid, just like the rest of AVALANCHE, and you won't get it if you're piloting your airship all day."

"How are you guys gonna get to Costa del Sol, then?"

"We got connections in the local airplane business. We'll be there."

"So that means we won't be able to start this operation until we're all in place, huh?"

"Yeah, and we'll have to keep in radio contact to update each other."

"Then we just blow up these reactors and--"

"No," Tifa immediately cut in, "We can't blow them up…"

"Why not?"

"Innocent people could get hurt…"

Reno and Rude traded a look, the martial artist's words reminding them of the Sector 7 catastrophe which the Turks were responsible for.

"So what, we just shut down the reactors?"

"It's the safer bet. Some of these reactor's are too close to populated areas."

"Then what the hell's the point? They could just reactivate them again later."

"That's only if we fail to stop Neo-ShinRa."

"But then that leaves 'em open for future bad guys."

"We'll just stop them, too, alright?"

"Before you all get into another senseless argument," Tifa said to get everybody's attention, "Listen… there's really no other option. The choice is either to blow them up and risk killing innocent people, or simply shut them down."

"Could we possibly sabotage the machinery and stuff so they can't be reactivated again?"

"Bad idea. Those reactors are pretty complex, it'd be easier, faster, and cheaper to just shut 'em down."

"Plus, if you mess with them the wrong way, they could self-destruct or something."

"Trust us, we know how our old company's reactors work."

"Alright… so when do we start?"

"First thing in the morning?"

"…All in favor?"

The answer was the most crooked collection of _'ayes'_ ever.

--

The night would have been pitch black were it not for the battery-powered lamps dotting the walls of the globular porch. The makeshift construction lights worked poorly to illuminate the courtyard, as the rainfall which blanketed the cold, midnight air had grown so heavy that the lamps produced more of a ghostly ambiance of shimmering beacons, radiating their twinkling glow all across the evening abyss.

Yuffie had long-since given up trying to sustain one of her usual one-sided conversations with Vincent because the strident fire-cracker rattling of each drop of sky water hitting the cobblestone surface drowned out all attempts of noise she tried to spit out of her mouth, much to the good fortune of the stoic gunslinger. His younger, bored companion relegated to sitting slothfully at the far arm of the wide outdoor sofa, one foot absent-mindedly tracing across the wooden portico floor and the other planted squarely on her end of the couch, lazily pressed up against Vincent's outer ankle in a manner reminiscent of a stalemated struggle for dominance of space. She was hunched over with her elbow rested above her knee and her cheek buried into her palm as she sung the same continuous, six-noted tune of hers quietly to herself.

_What am I doing here?_ she thought while watching the thick downpour cascade onto the paved surface of the courtyard. The puddles developing on the spots too far from the drains reflected an oddly appealing sheen off the wall lamps, and the disruptive rippling splashes created by the millions of incessant raindrops helped cast a dreamlike afterglow which only added a picturesque quality to the already haunting atmosphere. The little ninja let out a drawn out sigh while losing herself deeper and deeper into the scene. _Why am I just sitting here, seriously? I should be inside, it's so freezing out here! Stupid, idiot, dirt-for-brains Vinnie… you just had to go and get yourself all banged up._

She looked over at the lying enigma beside her. His position had remained almost exactly the same for hours, virtually unchanged with his right hand over his abdomen and his gauntleted arm casually rested at his side, party dangling off the edge of the couch. The only real difference worthy of mention was that his head was slightly tilted to his left. His eyes were closed, but Yuffie could not be sure if he was truly sleeping or not. She let out another, more disgruntled sigh at the presumably slumbering marksman.

_Stupid… idiot… dumb… can't even take care of yourself… where the heck would you be without me around having to hold your hand all the time, huh?_ Her mind went blank for a few seconds as she tiredly glared at him, but she flinched once a sudden, out of the blue thought of what it would be like to actually hold his hand crossed her mind. She choked out the tiniest gasp and shot her head back towards the rain. Her mind went blank once again and she shook the occurrence from her mind, but the very notion of it lingered in the back of her head. _Whatever…_

She then looked up as the door on the other end of the circular porch opened and the participants of the meeting began filing out. They all split up to their own destinations, some turning left and disappearing through various doorways, some going right and disappearing through other various doorways, and the rest finding places to stand, sit down, or otherwise make themselves comfortable all across the porch. The gang members spoke with one another in light, casual conversations as they lounged, a few of them pulling out cans out of a nearby cooler placed down by one of them.

A pair of Mages then caught Yuffie's eye, mostly because they actually stepped out into the freezing, heavy downpour to walk through the entrance of the courtyard. They seemed to be going off to the street to relieve the pair of sentries previously stationed there of their guard duty, one of them being Cleon. They had missed the meeting as well, but knowing Cleon, he probably could not have cared less, anyhow.

"So what's the news?" Yuffie asked Tifa as she and the new NMI leader, Questa came up.

"Well," Tifa began with a stretch of her arms to the sky. "Basically, we're going to strike back."

"When?"

"As soon as possible. Tomorrow night, we're shutting down the main source of Neo-ShinRa's income– the Mako reactors. All of them, at the same time."

"I would've thought you all would have decided on something a little bit more... conservative."

Questa scoffed. "Well, we eventually decided that the best defense would be a good offense."

"Ha, so we get to kick some Neo-ShinRa butt!" Yuffie rejoiced. "Which reactors do we get? Midgar? Heck, I can handle all of 'em by myself if I have to!"

"Actually," Tifa said, "The Turks are taking on Midgar."

"And we're taking care of the rest," added Questa.

"So then where's AVALANCHE going? Don't tell me we're sitting this one out or some pedestrian pansy crap like that!"

"We're going to their headquarters in Modeoheim to try and stop their leaders."

"_Oh _yeah, 'cause we're the best ones for the job! I bet their whole military's gonna be there. The four of us against an army, that sounds like fair odds!"

"Well, not just the four of us, Yuffie. Remember, Jethro's going with us."

"And now our group is useless."

"We'll need all the help we can get seeing as how we don't know what to expect from the Neo-ShinRas, especially considering that they have that SOLDIER woman and Moira on their side."

"We're gonna have a Mage tag along with you, too," Questa included. "You'll need the extra firepower."

Yuffie raised an eyebrow. "Who, exactly?"

Questa motioned her head in the direction behind the little ninja. "Here he comes. I'm gonna tell him right now."

They turned their gazes to the entrance to watch Cleon walk through the doorway and into the courtyard.

Yuffie sighed and lowered her head. "And here comes the bane of my existence...."

Cleon headed for the dryness of their stoop, making a curious scene of precariously tiptoeing over and around every deep puddle along the way– complete with bugged-out eyes–as if they were made of hot lava. He climbed up to the porch and wagged his head like a dog, spilling rainwater from his long soaked hair in all directions much to the outcry of the others.

Tifa wiped the drops from her face. "Did you just stay out in the rain all this time without a cover?"

"It's bad luck." He then turned to Questa. "What'd you wanna see me about?"

"We're launching a strategic offensive against Neo-ShinRa tomorrow and while the rest of us head out to shut down the Mako reactors, you're going with AVALANCHE to Modeoheim."

Cleon widened his eyes as if a pulse of fear suddenly gripped his veins. "Uh... what's so special about that place and why am I going with _them_?"

"Modeoheim's where their headquarters is. You're gonna take out their leaders."

"Don't I get a say in this?"

"You're free to say whatever you want, but you're still going," Questa smirked.

"No way, I-I can't go," Cleon resisted. "Nooo, no-no-no."

"What's got you so spooked?" Tifa asked. "You held your own today with no problem. Jethro insisted you go because he said he liked the way you fought and looked to be the best for the job."

"Remind me to stick SOLDIER boy's head in a toilet! I can't go, not with Dracula coming along!"

Yuffie gripped her hair and felt like tearing it off. "For the last time, Vinnie's not a vampire!"

"Whatever the case, you're going and that's that," Questa preserved. "They'll need your Materia."

Cleon drooped his face and mumbled something in a foreign language. To the two older women's surprise, Yuffie actually responded in a similar tongue. They traded a few sentences, Cleon remaining unenthusiastically monotone and Yuffie rising in a spot of bother.

"I don't like the idea of you tagging along any more than you do," Yuffie finally spoke in a language the others could understand. "We already got the whipping boy for Yuffie's fury, and that's old Vinnie right here! Actually now that I think about it, I'll need a punching bag more than ever 'cause you're gonna drive me insane."

"And I'll be keeping my Materia in a safe."

"Might as well staple 'em to your arms while you're at it cause that's not gonna stop me!"

"You should probably get your things ready for tomorrow," Tifa interrupted the squabble. "Pack warm, the Northern Continent has temperatures cold enough to freeze fire."

Cleon mumbled blankly in defeat and began to leave. "Forget that, I need a bag of garlic and a gallon of holy water..."

"He's not a vampire!"

Everybody jumped at the little ninja's outburst, especially Cleon who spun around in surprise and nearly tripped in the process. Yuffie's urge to strangle faded as he continued for the nearby doorway. She was the only one see him disappear into the building and she lowered her brows in curiosity while he raised his hand through his hair, briefly revealing a marking behind his neck that appeared to be a tattoo looking something like the letter _'V'_ and a few vertical lines.

"Alright," Questa scoffed, "I've gotta go check up on a few things. See ya around."

Tifa and Yuffie acknowledged likewise and Questa left for further down the porch. Yuffie then turned to Tifa with a question in mind.

"Why do you think Jethro specifically wanted _him _to come, anyway?"

"Well, I asked him about it, Jethro insisted on Cleon because he liked how well he fought today and believes him to be the best… but honestly, it sounds like he's up to something."

"Coming from Jethro, of course."

"I know, right? When Questa started suggesting others for us, Jethro came along and said that Cleon was the best idea, hands down. He kept shooting down the other names, which was really fishy. But what does it mean, what could he want from this?"

"I dunno. For once, it actually seems harmless… well, er… besides the, y'know, 'crazy paranoid Mage tagging along' part. Maybe he's actually telling the truth?" Though, even the very thought of such a query churned the pit of her stomach.

"Let's just keep our eyes peeled for anything suspicious." suggested Tifa, prompting a nod from Yuffie. "…What were you guys just saying to each other, anyway? Did you actually understand what Cleon was saying? It didn't sound like Wutai to me."

"He was using a southern dialect, but we could pretty much understand each other."

"So he's from Wutai, too."

"The island itself, not the town. There's supposed to be small fishing villages and farm settlements along the southern coast. I've haven't met many southerners in my life. Godo always told the town about how 'inferior the southerners are compared to the rest of us,' so we've never really been on good terms with them..."

Tifa smiled. "Really? I couldn't tell at all."

* * *

**Author's Note: This may have been boring but well, as you can probably tell, this chapter was purely to establish the final plot. And damn, in lieu of this chapter, I feel compelled to change the rating of this fic to at least "Teen."**


	21. Remember Tomorrow

**Beyond Paradise II**

_Disclaimer: I do not own Yuffie, Vincent, or anything/anybody else in this fiction, they belong to Square Enix. I also don't own previously established fictitious characters such as Moira, Zeb, or Jethro. They were created by the original fan fic's author, tolerant. Though, I DO claim a childish, unpatented ownership over my original/semi-original characters--Cleon, Questa, Max, Rakk, and Havern Glaire. And the recurring smoking guard. He's tiiight. This is not an "official" sequel by the original author, more like a tribute by me since the original has been discontinued, unfortunately. I am not affiliated with tolerant in any way, shape, or form (other than being a fan, of course)._

**Author's Note: I don't know why, but I think this chapter has sort of a "Sink to the Bottom With You" feel. I dunno if that's good or bad, but uh… well, enjoy. :P**

**

* * *

**_  
Things not what they used to be  
Missing one inside of me  
Deathly lost, this can't be real  
Cannot stand this hell I feel  
Emptiness is filling me  
To the point of agony  
Growing darkness taking dawn  
I was me, but now he's gone_

_Fade to Black  
--James Hetfield_

**- ****Chapter 31: Remember Tomorrow**

Since the meeting ended, the hideout of Norté Magus, Incorporated had quieted down to a crawl. The bulk of the Mages and Turks had turned in for the night in anticipation for the next day's preparations. It was agreed upon that the following morning into the following afternoon would be spent getting all teams into position, then once everybody had gotten into place, they would simultaneously strike their targets, but a few hours after midnight to decrease their chances of overwhelming confrontations.

The downpour continued it's barrage from the blackened skies above, but it was curiously comforting and induced an oddly reassuring aura of tranquility about the rain-slicked courtyard. With a long-awaited calm finally reached after such a chaotic, arduous day, the few remaining coalition members still awake now lounged across the porch and in the various living rooms of each apartment to reflect, cavort, and otherwise make the most of what could possibly be the very last enjoyable night of some of their lives. Such a mentality failed to hamper the consumption of alcohol though, and the railings and end tables were already littered with empty bottles of various shapes and sizes.

After conversing with Yuffie about the ramblings of a certain eternally-irritable long-haired NMI, Tifa bade the exhausted little ninja a good night and left her to sit on the chair she had pulled up beside Vincent's couch. The raven-haired martial artist made her way to the other end of the porch, maneuvering past the scattered, half-inebriated Mages lazily strewn about. As she passed by, she sensed the wandering eyes of the gang members behind her, quietly examining her scantily-clad backside. She caught what sounded like the faint whispers of a few male gang members sharing something about 'tapping that' in hushed tones, and even what she could swear sounded like one of the female ones. She found herself resisting the greatest urge to just spin around and deliver a rather perturbed rejoinder along the lines of _'enjoying the show?!'_, but lamented instead at her choice of skimpy attire.

_Of all the weeks to wear this stupid outfit…_ she mused with a sigh, referring to such an adverse turn of events that left her with no time for a proper change of clothing.

She had always worn her trademark bartending ensemble to her advantage to increase the tips back at the 7th Heaven Bar. The drunken patrons ate up the ruse like candy, but once in awhile it would work a little too well; nonetheless, it was never anything her dexterously adroit martial arts self-defense training could not easily handle. Though the restrained catcalls of her newfound allies paled in comparison to the disgustingly grabby advances of Jethro and Don Corneo--it was only natural for a group of youths to gawk at an attractive woman, anyway--it was enough to warrant a contemplation of an adjustment to her wardrobe in the future. Maybe something still in black that actually covered her midriff properly but still offered the comfort of a sleeveless design. The miniskirt would definitely have to go, though.

With another sigh, she looked down at herself as she pressed on, pessimistically examining her overly-revealed features and planning which regions would get shielded and which would not, but then gasped as soon as she caught wind of what the blue-tinted teenagers must have been ogling on about; wearing white T-shirts in cold, extremely rainy weather is a bad idea.

_Oh great…! _she huffed while folding her arms tightly across her chest, trying as hard as she could to make it look like she was just crossing them to warm herself from the cold. She had just met these people and could not have felt more embarrassed. At least one thing worked in her favor, though. _Thank goodness for thick bras…_

"Here," she suddenly heard, looking up to see Cid holding out his flight jacket in front of him for her, "Ya look like ya need it more than I do."

Tifa gave a timid, appreciative smile. "Thanks." She took the proffer without hesitation and speedily donned the coat, lightly chuckling at the delightful fragrance of cigarette grime and month-old aircraft oil. _Beggars can't be choosers…_

"It suits you, my dear." she heard the unmistakable voice of Jethro offer behind her, alluding to the fact that the sky captain's jacket was obviously too large for the lean bartender. He was sitting on a deck chair against the wall with his arms folded and one leg crossed over the other, complete with that same deceptively charming smirk painted across his face.

"Thanks." she forced out somewhat lightheartedly as she pulled the flaps closer over herself.

Tifa then turned back and leaned forward, resting her elbows on the railing. The awning above extended just far enough to protect from most of the rain. Her sable hair was starting to get dampened and droopy from the moisture, but it was bearable. She found herself staring at her two slumbering friends across the courtyard, Vincent laying peacefully on the outdoor sofa, contrasting with Yuffie's awkward sprawl on the chair she planted on the head side of her gunslinger companion. As she observed the duo, she laughed inside at the irony of the scene, recollecting back to the first night when they had all reunited at her and Cloud's house in Kalm a month after Meteorfall.

She remembered it perfectly when she had walked upstairs the next morning to wake the others for breakfast, starting at Cid and Barret's room, the one closest to the stairs. They had shot up as soon as she opened the ingress a crack and the delicious whiff of bacon and eggs spilled into the room. Before she even opened the door the whole way, the two men were both already halfway across the floor, shoving and pushing each other to be the first to make it to the kitchen. She smiled warmly at the memory.

Next was Yuffie's room. She had knocked lightly, knowing that such a rambunctious teenager would barely put up with such a rude awakening. She had called her name and knocked a few more times, but when she failed to hear an answer, she decided to peak in, and was surprised to find the bed empty. The covers and pillows were typically strewn about, so she just assumed that the little ninja had already awakened and scampered off to do whatever Yuffie does, maybe do some morning Tai Chi or, jokingly, 'hunt around' for more Gil and Materia.

She then turned around and stepped across the hall to the final door, the door to the room of Vincent Valentine. She remembered how she had raised her fist to knock, but to her disbelief, she was actually hesitant to, at first. She was more shocked as to why she had felt so initially tentative than the fact that she was waking up the most haunting hero in the gang, so she laughed it off because he was her friend, anyway, and lightly knocked on the ingress. She waited for an answer, which immediately came in the form of what sounded like a tap of a chair leg hitting the wooden floor, followed by the sound of calm footsteps approaching that seemed to be in no hurry. The knob turned, the door swayed open, and then she found herself staring up into the infinite void of Vincent's blank ruby hues. It was not the first time that she saw Vincent without his hallmark red cape--they had all already stayed in several inns during the Jenova War, anyway--but she still found it rather out of the ordinary.

He had thanked her for informing him of breakfast being ready, but oddly not the fact that she had cooked the breakfast. She would later find out that he had not even eaten that morning at all, which explained why. She smiled at Vincent but took a quick glance behind him when a moving lump in his bed caught her eye. Her jaw immediately dropped once she realized that she was looking at Yuffie as the young princess groaned and pulled the blanket tighter over herself while rolling to the side to present her back to the doorway.

Her mouth still held agape, she darted her gaze back up to the leather-clad marksman, who was staring back down at her with absolutely no emotion in his face. He simply strolled past her and quietly made his way down the stairs without even giving any explanation whatsoever. Time would prove the true explanation, but the irony she found humor in was the complete reversal in the relationship between the ninja and the gunslinger. Just a fortnight ago, Yuffie would have nothing less than the better sleeping arrangement, but this time around, she was on the chair and Vincent was on the couch, much to the acceptance of the teenager.

She snapped back to the present and glanced beside her to see Cid joining her at the rail while smoking another cigarette. "Hey, Cid," Tifa asked while keeping her gaze on the two, "Do you, um, do you notice anything… _different_ about those two? Since the last time we saw them?"

Cid raised his eyebrow. "Y'know, come 'ta think've it, they do seem a little… _different. _My god, seems just like yesterday they were hatin' each others guts, right?"

"Yeah… remember when those two first met in the basement of Shinra Mansion? …What was it that was the first thing Yuffie said to him?"

"Somethin' about him bein' too depressin', and then she got' all pissed off when he left the basement with us and joined the crew. The weeks leadin' up 'ta Northern Crater were no picnic, either. Remember how she was always makin' rude comments about him when he strayed off to the side durin' our huddles? And how she always seemed 'ta try 'ta pick a fight with him for some damn thing?"

"They've had a chance to get to know each other better these past few weeks. They must have found some sort of connection… as kinda crazy as that may sound."

"Well, one thing's for sure. Old Vince must have the patience of a saint! He's been the only one 'ta ever put up with that 'lil brat without crackin' after 5 consecutive seconds of listenin' to her. Still, not even Vincent deserves that kinda torture, maybe we should--"

"Nah," Tifa interjected, "Leave them be. They seem to be getting along fine."

"…But look at 'em, Vincent's too messed up to even get up. Maybe he's trapped and needs help to get away from Yuffie--"

"Cid!" she stopped him with a giggle.

"…Yeah well, I guess it makes it easier for the team overall. Still can't understand that shit, though. They're polar opposites."

"Well, opposites do attract…" she said with a knowing smirk, remembering all the taunting conversations she had with the ninja concerning her and her speculative relationship with Vincent. In all honesty, it started out as a joke on Tifa's part just to poke fun and flush her younger compatriot, but watching the two now, her mind wondered if anything could have possibly developed between them these past couple of weeks, particularly on Yuffie's part. She was just a blossoming little girl, after all. _And to think… Vincent, of all people…_?

"What the hell's so funny?" the unknowing Cid queried of Tifa's distant smile.

"…Funny?" she asked, her contemplations halted. She decided to slide the subject, knowing Cid's fatherly instincts would disapprove of the speculations, whether purely humorous in nature or not. "O-oh um, maybe we're just thinking about it too hard."

"Yeah, 'prolly. Whad'da you think, Jethro?

"…Jethro?" Tifa echoed. They both turned to the blonde ex-SOLDIER and realized that he was too caught up in watching Madison of the Turks wander into a distant doorway. "Jethrooo?"

"…Huh? Sorry, my dear, I was miles away."

"I'll bet." Tifa remarked as she rolled her eyes, inwardly gagging the idea of Jethro going after his next victim.

"What were you saying again?"

Cid blew out his smoke. "Askin' what'cha think about those two over there."

Jethro merely took a short glance at the couple, his mind more interested in a certain sable-haired Turk. "Well," he started as he inched towards the door Madison entered through, "Since you asked… if that keeps up, I foresee a future romantic entanglement that may or may not end in a restraining order."

"Yeah..." Cid drawled absentmindedly. That lasted until the words' meaning finally registered. "...Wait, _WHAT_?!_"_

--

"Easy now," Madison said as she helped Elena onto the bed. She then turned to the doorway to look at the young NMI gang member that had led the small group of Turks to the cozy little room. "Thank you."

"Yeah, no prob." he replied with juvenile apathy, fists shoved into his pockets. "Ya need anything, just ask around. Got coffee in the living room around the corner, bathroom's there, too… oh, and uh, sorry none of us can heal her. After the battles, our magics completely tapped out, we're all exhausted. Only one that never seems 'ta run outta juice is old Cleon, but the gods be damned if you can ever get that lunatic 'ta even listen'na you in the first place."

"It's fine." Madison reassured with her cheerful smile. "You've all done so much already, we couldn't ask you for anything more."

And with that, he gave a nod and disappeared from the doorway and down the corridor. Reno, Rude, and Madison looked down at Elena, who already began to drift off to sleep, her left hand planted over her side.

"You need anything?" Madison asked, seated at the edge of the bed.

Elena shook her head weakly with a tiny smile. "I just feel like getting some shut eye." she replied in a quiet voice.

Madison nodded, stood up, and looked at Reno and Rude. "At least one of you's gotta watch over her all the time."

"Yeah, yeah," Reno interjected with a dismissive wave, "Moira and the Dreamland."

"Alright," Madison said as she blithely rolled her eyes.

"Rude can take the first watch." Reno volunteered. "I'll take the third, and you can take the second, 'kay?"

Madison stifled a chuckle and shook her head at the absurdity of it all. "Okay. I'm gonna go see how the others are doing, I'll be back in a bit."

Madison exited the tiny room and started down the hallway of the building. For the hideout of a bunch of teenaged street punks, she had to admit that the interior was surprisingly inviting, with it's Victorian-design architecture, it's warm, homely earth tones, alluring carpeting, and smiling blonde men.

"Jethro?!" Madison gasped while regaining her balance from the jump she had. The ex-SOLDIER caught her completely by surprise as she turned the corner of the hall. "What are you doing here?!"

"Nothing, my dear. Just… getting familiar with my new surroundings."

"Oh, right. Yeah, there's not much around here. It's just a couple rooms down this hall and the living room, stairs, and front door behind you. Not really…" she knitted her brows, noticing a strange expression on Jethro's face. "…Not really much around here at all."

"By the way, I never got a chance to thank you… for saving my life. Thank you."

"Oh, right, it was nothing, really…"

Jethro smirked at her discomfort. She hid it quite well behind a professional and well-spoken demeanor, but she was faltering, and he slowly began strolling towards her with each passing sentence. "No, that was a very brave thing you did."

"All I really did was administer a potion to your wound." she said with humility, adding a smile for good measure. Though, the smile was forced. "I mean, anyone could have done it." Despite his humble topic of choice, Madison could not help but sense a more furtive agenda poorly hidden underneath his soft, almost timid veneer.

"Oh, I wouldn't say that." he said slyly with a crafty smirk, a surreptitiousness in his movements as he took another faintly drawn out, somewhat more noticeable pace towards the female Turk.

"What…" Madison almost stuttered while leaning back at his advance. She was having trouble keeping eye contact with him, relegating to fixing her gaze at the collar of his jacket. "What are you talking about?"

"I think you know precisely what I'm talking about."

Madison felt the wall on her back stopping her retreat. "J-Jethro, I--"

He unhooked his arms from behind his back and slowly leaned forward, resting his palms against the wall on either side of the sable-haired Turk, effectively locking her in. She pressed up against the surface, straying her head to the side as she just could not bring herself to look into the face of the blonde SOLDIER. She felt the fear building up in her chest, and her body was heating up like an oven on full blast.

"So many strong men in your little business-suited club." he suddenly remarked, causing Madison to dart her eyes sideways to lock with his very close Mako-infused hues out of reflex. "It leads one to believe that a fine specimen such as yourself is… off the market." he stated while using hs thumb to gently push away a stray, jet-black bang covering her face before slowly running his hand down her cheek to her neck.

Madison gave a little yelp and pushed his arm away with one hand, and instinctively threw a fist towards his face using her other. His fingers caught around her wrist with lightning speed and she suddenly felt her heart racing a mile a minute as he held her arm up above her head, his steely orbs laughing at her misfortunate position. Madison's free hand moved to scratch his grip off, but his own free limb took hers and held it away.

Jethro chuckled as he leaned towards her, head tilting to the side in amusement. "Maybe not…?"

Madison's worried panting intensified as she felt his breath lightly caressing her cheek. His face was a mere inch away from hers, and she could see the alluring glow in his blue Mako eyes. Her chest was beating fiercely with all trepidation now, and her blood was boiling like an inferno. Despite such sheer terror gripping tight, deep down, she strangely felt all of it rather intoxicating.

The sinister twinkle in Jethro's eyes intensified, finding much humor in how similarly this was playing out to the stint he had with the young princess of Wutai many days before. All that was missing was a dramatic cue to her rescue and it would parallel quite interestingly.

"Hands off the merchandise, SOLDIER boy." a familiar voice threatened from further up the hall in simultaneous time with an electrical crackle.

_Speak of the devil…_

They both turned their heads and saw Reno and Rude standing by the doorway of Elena's room, the early brandishing his Electro-Mag Rod and the latter holding his seldom-glimpsed standard issue ShinRa pistol in plain sight. The blonde man stared at her saviors for what felt like an eternity before another smile crossed his lips and he let the sable-haired Turk go.

"Relax yourselves, gentlemen." he said coolly. "I didn't think she'd be so touchy on the subject."

"We're gonna let ya go this time, Jethro," the serious-faced Reno declared with a restrained fervor as he slowly batted his head from side to side, "But that's only cause we owe you one for savin' our asses back at the warehouse."

A flash of light reflected off of Rude's sunglasses as he raised his chin up. "So as of now, we're square, and you'd be wise to never lay a hand on her, or any other Turk like that ever again."

"Whatever you say," he buoyantly replied with a playful salute before flashing a grin to Madison, "Whatever you say." He finally ambled off down the corridor from which he came.

Reno and Rude traded a look, then the latter went back into the room to watch over Elena as the red-haired young man put his electrified night stick away and walked briskly up to Madison. "You alright?"

Madison blinked a couple of times before letting off a heavy exhale as if she had been holding her breath the entire time. "I'm fine."

"Some goddamn nerve he's got." Reno grumbled as he turned his head just in time to see Jethro disappear through the building's front door.

"Yeah…" Madison trailed off with her eyes transfixed on the open egress the blonde ex-SOLDIER walked through.

Reno looked back and lowered his brows in confusion, taken aback by her almost trance-like state. "Earth 'ta Madison? Hello?"

"Oh!" she winced. "Sorry."

"…Y'know, if I didn't know any better, I'd say you were caught up in staring at his ass as he left."

"What?"

"Guess somebody's got a 'lil crush." Reno teased in a mocking tone. "Twisted and wrong for all the weirdest, most backward reasons, but a crush nonetheless."

"Well," Madison started, realizing she was unable to stop herself, "He's… aggressive. I like that."

"You've _gotta_ be kiddin' me."

"Seriously though, you can call me crazy…"

"You're crazy."

"…But, well, I find it attractive."

Reno thinned his eyes and tilted his head to the side. A little smile crossed his lips as he laid his elbow against the wall next to Madison in a flirtatious demeanor. "Really, now?"

"In attractive _people,_ Reno."

"Oh." he said while immediately dropping his arm and straightening his face, pretending like it never happened. "Well, just watch yourself, Maddy. I'm not your dad or your brother or your uncle, so I can't tell ya what to do, but my advice is to just… watch yourself. He really looks like bad news."

"Yeah, thanks, Reno." she sighed before running her hand through her hair. Maybe it was the awkward silence between the two, but for some reason, she felt compelled to shed some insight to her views on such an unlikely prospect. "It's just that, well, all my life, men have been all nice and gentlemen-like towards me, but I could tell from experience and their looks that they're just feigning it to get after one thing."

"Er…"

"He's just… different. I don't know how to explain it, but there's just something about him that… I don't know. I really can't explain what I'm trying to say."

"Yeah, yeah, you don't have to. You see it all the time in movies." Reno crossed his arms and raised his face up into the air with his eyes closed in the most smug manner possible, as if he truly believed he knew what he was talking about. "Man likes girl. Girl doesn't like man because he's too fake. The process repeats over and over again throughout her life until girl gets unforgivably sick of it. Then one day, girl comes across new man that just gets right to the point. Girl likes new man because he's a bad boy and she secretly wants exactly what he wants, too…"

"Reno…"

"Girl and bad boy get to talkin'. There just so happens to be a big war going on while girl and bad boy get to talkin'. Things happen that make girl and bad boy become closer; girl saves bad boys life, bad boy saves girl's life, and pretty soon they start makin' moves at each other…"

"_Reno…_"

"Soon the war goes on full blast and girl can't help but spill her feelings to bad boy. Bad boy spills feelings to girl, regardless of how backwards and weird the pairing is. Girl and bad boy hook up because girl always wanted a bad boy in her life and the war was just the catalyst needed to cram those two together. And like the old saying goes, '_War times make for odd bed fellows--_'"

"Reno!"

"Er, sorry."

Madison could not help but stifle a girlish giggle at the absurdity of her partner and friend's philosophy, despite her tendencies to maintain an adult and more mature semblance of leaned motherhood that made her seem venerably wise and quite old for her age, regardless of the fact that she was still, chronologically, at the beginning of her life. Though, Madison found herself silently consider Reno's words, thinking that due to a missed childhood and a difficult decade of teenage angst and personal loss, a fatal attraction to a scumbag like Jethro could possibly be interpreted by an inner desire to feel young again, a yearning compensation to fill the void in her life which caused her to feel alone in the world, though she hid this anxiety well by always cheerfully carrying out her duties.

Wishing to get back to a more important world of the here and now, the raven-haired Turk decided to dwell on all that later and glanced at her wristwatch. "Well," she started as she sprightly pushed forward from the wall they were both leaning back on. "I'm gonna go get some coffee. Wanna come with?"

"Sure, I'll need some for my watch, and Rude's got Elena covered, anyway." he said as they strolled down the hall towards the living room. Right before they entered the new space, Reno scratched his head and turned to Madison. "Hey, is it just me, or have you noticed anything goin' on between Rude and Elena?"

--

It had been a few hours since the meeting had ended, and the few people still awake were now good and intoxicated. The globular porch itself was nearly empty, save for a small area set up where Cid, Tifa, Questa, and Rakk sprawled upon chairs they had brought together. They had been discussing business matters, sharing possible plans and tactics they could utilize for their operations for the next day. So far, only common sense permeated their stratagems, so they relegated to lounging around and enjoying the frosty, midnight air while it lasted.

"But why Cleon?" Rakk finally asked Questa after giving the subject they had just been talking about a few minutes to sink in.

"I want a Mage to go with them." Questa began before she paused to imbibe some of her beverage. "I want NMI represented when they go and take these bastards down. They can't do this alone, but they can't have too many guys, either, so they need a lot of power packed into one package, and Cleon's the best we got left."

"But I can fight just as well as him. _And _my mental stability is fully intact. Sure you want the _Whacko _getting AVALANCHE's back?"

"You know just as well as I do he can handle his own. Yeah, he's just like, out there all the time, but you know how well he acts under pressure."

"'Pressure' isn't even in his dictionary. He's acts so well and calm under pressure because he totally ignores it. I've seen him ignore some crazy shit before, but today just took the cake."

"What?"

"I saw that kid bend down and _tie his shoe_ in the middle of the street _during a firefight_… he did it like it was nothing! Like he forgot where he was or something, even with all those bullets whizzing around all over the place and everything! He's a trip, it's unreal. It's like, he's always in his own little world. Seriously, he's not really right in the head."

"I ain't gon' argue with ya there, but you of all people should know he's come through every time. Shit, Rakk, you're one of the guys that's known him the longest."

"Yeah… but that's not saying much. The guy never talks about himself, or like, _anything _for that manner. Sure, he does say something when you acknowledge him, but when he _does_ speak, he's always got something _angry_ to say… "

"But that don't detract from his efficiency as a fighter. Cleon's just a quiet giant who speaks with his fists, shouts with his gun, and soldiers when he's told to. That's all that matters."

"…He's not _that_ tall, I'm bigger than him. And what are you talking about, he doesn't use a gun… you just took that from that TV show the other night. Stop trying to sound like Max…"

"Irregardless, that's not the point."

"That's not a word, either."

"Listen, smartass, he's everythin' they need. All his Materia's mastered and he can use it better than any of us without even givin' it a second thought. He's come through time and time again, Rakk, you know that."

"I know, but I just--"

"I know you wanna go 'ta Modeoheim, but _regardless _of what anybody says, he's the logical choice. You're leadin' the Junon reactor team and I'm leadin' the Costa del Sol one. You know Cleon's not a leader."

"Yeah, yeah, I get the point."

"Shit," Cid wanned, "If it were up 'ta me, I'da chosen you 'ta tag along."

"Hah, thanks."

"But I still can't put my finger on why Jethro's so keen on takin' Cleon along. Sounds like he's up 'ta somethin' again."

"Won't argue with you there." Tifa offered. "Jethro knows more than he's letting on, almost as if he already knows everything that's happening and as if he's playing all the sides to his own advantage."

"Wouldn't surprise me…"

"And if you noticed, it's like he doesn't reveal anything until a situation calls for it."

Rakk scoffed. "Sounds like he's doing that because he's got one, reeeally big secret he doesn't want anybody finding out."

Cid thinned his eyes in inquiry. "Tifa… you don't think Jethro's in cahoots with Moira, do ya?"

"That clown bitch?" Questa asked, ever so eloquently. Everyone in the coalition had so far been warned of the threat of the otherworldly jester girl. It had been awhile since they last encountered her, but the devious puppet never left their thoughts and the required precautions were set up for every nightly slumber.

Tifa nodded to answer the female Mage's question, then turned back to the sky captain. "I don't know, Cid. I want to, but I just don't."

Cid grunted with contempt. "He's bad news, I'm tellin' ya! He's gonna stab us in the back as soon as we get there, or hell, maybe even sooner! Where is that guy, anyway? He could be--"

"Cid, Cid…" Tifa interrupted, "I know, but in all fairness, he hasn't done anything yet to lead us to really believe he could betray us…"

"We should'a just ditched that bastard back in Midgar when we had the chance."

"I can't vouch for the guy, nor do I want to, but I can't just bring myself to antagonize him without a suitable reason."

"You mean 'ta tell me that you'd only wait 'ta catch him red-handed? It'd be too late by then! Wake up, Tifa, he ain't exactly got the best track record with us, if ya didn't notice! And if that ain't enough, _he_ was the one that brought that clown girl in'na this world, who's 'ta say that he ain't secretly controllin' her? Why else would he be so secretive with everything? He could be leadin' us straight into a trap!"

"I hate to say it, but we need him. He's a powerful ally, even if it's only an alliance of convenience. He's a necessary evil, Cid. At least for now, he's somebody we'll need to trust and depend on if we ever wanna hope to see our friends returned to us…"

Cid blinked at Tifa's words. There was something about that last statement that seemed to come straight from the most sincerest part of her being. The foursome remained silent for a good long while in lieu of the female martial artist's proclamation, quietly drinking their beverages and smoking their cigarettes. A few moments passed before Tifa rose to her feet and stretched out her arms into the air, then returned to lean on the rail to watch the falling rain. After awhile, Rakk checked his wristwatch, gulped down the last of his beer, and stood up with Questa to turn in for the night, bidding their AVALANCHE counterparts a farewell. Cid then made his way to stand beside Tifa, not smoking a cigarette for once, and gave a heavy, drawn-out sigh.

"Ya miss him, don't 'cha?"

It seemed like forever before Tifa gave her answer in the form of a nod. She never strayed her auburn hues from the waterfall of what seemed to be like the tears of the Planet.

"Must be why you're so keen on acceptin' all this unlikely help, am I right?"

Tifa nodded again. "...I can't lose him, Cid."

The sky captain was at a loss for words. He had no idea how to reply, but he found himself reminded of what Shera must be thinking right now. He had left without saying anything about where he had gone or what he was going to do. It was not like he cared about her or anything, but then again, she _had _willfully taken care of him when he was incapacitated and had been the only one to put up with his boisterousness with nothing short of a warm, sincere smile. He decided he would have to give Shera a phone call later. He felt as if he at least owed her that much.

Cid turned back to Tifa. She was still leaned forward, staring blankly at the falling rain with a poorly-hidden sorrow in her eyes. He scratched that back of his neck and let out an uncomfortable grunt. "Cloud's gonna be a'right, Tifa. With all've us workin' together to set things right… well... remember, tomorrow's gonna be the day we fight back and try 'ta set things right again… well… you get the idea."

Tifa chuckled gently. "Thanks, Cid."

"Yeah… and yeah, if it makes ya feel a 'lil bit better, I guess I can give Jethro a fair chance."

Tifa sighed. "It's not so much that I want you to trust him… it's just that it's such a pointless waste of time to be fighting amongst ourselves. We have bigger things to worry about."

"I could give that a try, too."

"That doesn't mean that we shouldn't at least keep an eye on him, mind you." Tifa said blithely as she turned to him with a light smile.

"…The second he tries anything funny, I'ma stick 'ma spear up his ass and turn him into a popsicle."

* * *

**Author's Note: ****I apologize for the rather… ****mature ****nature this fic has taken in comparison to tolerant's original BP, like the more somber tones and darker themes and especially the increase in swearing. Oh well. Fuck it. **

**Oh yeah:  
**

**I'm planning on making a new, MUCH shorter story (in semi-novella format) right after I conclude Beyond Paradise II. I won't give too much away just yet, but it's supposed to be a side story to the events of Beyond Paradise I and II, and also encompasses parts of other times in the huge Final Fantasy VII mythos. It's going to fill in the gaps of BP2 and explain a lot of the untold back story of BP/BP2 and… "somebody, something, and something else."  
**


	22. My Friend of Misery

**Beyond Paradise II**

_Disclaimer: I do not own Yuffie, Vincent, or anything/anybody else in this fiction, they belong to Square Enix. I also don't own previously established fictitious characters such as Moira, Zeb, or Jethro. They were created by the original fan fic's author, tolerant. Though, I DO claim a childish, unpatented ownership over my original/semi-original characters--Cleon, Questa, Max, Rakk, and Havern Glaire. And the recurring smoking guard. He's tiiight. This is not an "official" sequel by the original author, more like a tribute by me since the original has been discontinued, unfortunately. I am not affiliated with tolerant in any way, shape, or form (other than being a fan, of course)._

**Author's Note: This one's a whopper. Not my best work, there was a lot of new stuff I'm not quite used to yet that I tried out... but I kinda like it.**

**

* * *

**

_Lay beside me  
Tell me what they've done  
__Speak the words I wanna hear  
__To make my demons run  
__The door is locked now  
__But it's open if you're true  
__If you can understand the me  
__Then I can understand the you_

___The Unforgiven II  
__--James Hetfield_

- **Chapter 32: My Friend of Misery **

"Forward visibility approximately 77%."

"Communication channels clear."

"Radar functioning normal."

"Network terminals online."

"Prime Area Scan shows no immediate threats or obstructions."

"Gamma link operational."

"Adjusting settings, 6-2-8-1.7-3..."

"Power levels: 119%."

"…Heading calculated and uploaded."

Contented with the exceptional statistics rattled on by the Highwind's four crew members, Cid pulled his lips back into a satisfied smirk as he sauntered passed the various work stations to the head of the of the airship's command deck and gazed through the wide viewport with his hands rested on his hips. Though last night's rainstorm had cleared up, the skies ahead were still permeated with a thick haze of cumulonimbus formations, but it was nevertheless a detail.

"All systems go, Captain," the first mate announced from his place behind the wheel. "Ready for departure on your order."

Cid turned around and took another deep breath. Hovering high above Junon, the Highwind was more than ready to make the trek towards their final destination of Modeoheim in the heroes' bid to put an end to such appalling hostilities once and for all. They would sail across the deepest oceans and ride onwards toward the first step for the final resolution, fly across the sea to the land of everlasting snow and bring the judgment hammer down on the evils of Neo-ShinRa in the name of equitable justice and vengefully recalcitrant retribution. The finale to their terrible ordeal was finally within grasp, and the feeling of intractable relentlessness to accomplish their goal weighed a heavy aura, imparting the heroes' prejudices to surge as bitter as the cold, morning air of a frosty, pearl grey dawn.

But it would have to wait a minute. "Hold up, son," Cid decreed to his first mate behind the helm, "I got a few words to say before we head out. Everybody, c'mon, gather 'round. Everybody, now."

The four sole crew members traded looks and made their way to the front of their captain, finding places to stand beside the ragtag bunch of Tifa the gifted martial artist, Yuffie the sprightly shinobi, Vincent the gun-slinging shape-shifter, Jethro the ex-SOLDIER defector, and Cleon the Mage from Junon, who were all facing their elected leader, Captain Cid Highwind, a dragoon of the first order. Much like back during the Jenova War when Cloud Strife was still recuperating from intensive Mako poisoning in the town of Mideel, Cid Highwind was selected to be the temporary leader, a job which he hesitantly accepted but personally never fully liked as much as he ostensibly let on.

Cid crossed his arms and took a deep breath while looking at his allies. "Now I ain't sure why I keep getting picked as the top dog whenever Cloud's outta the picture, but seeing as how it's a'ready decided, well…"

He sighed while staring at the floor, trying to find the right words for a proper pep talk, but came up empty, much to his frustration.

"Er, what would Cloud do in this situation?" he grumbled while giving the back of his head an awkward scratch. Then it hit him. "Listen, uh… two months ago, all of us here were standing on this same deck on this same airship. We were on our way to Northern Crater getting ready for that final battle with Sephiroth. I still remember it. We were all right here, talking about how Meteor was gonna fall in, uh, seven days. Cloud was telling us how that if we _did _beat Sephiroth, we'd have seven days to stop Meteor from crashing, otherwise there wouldn't be a planet left to protect. If we _didn't_ beat Sephiroth… we would've just died a little sooner than everybody else.

"Now I ain't trying to sound like I'm thinking about losing before we even fight," he continued, alluding to Barret Wallace's same exact rejoinder to Cloud on that day two months prior. "But this Modeoheim thing… Neo-ShinRa may not be as crazy-ass strong as Sephiroth was, but they're still really dangerous. This whole mission's dangerous. Once we get there, we can't be sure what to expect. They could have anything over there from 10,000 more troopers to an army of robot warriors, a whole legion of ex-SOLDIERs... or hell, maybe even more Moiras.

"Uh," he continued with a sigh, "I guess the point I'm trying to get at is that this thing's not really all that different from that day two months ago. Cloud wanted us to find that something that we were really fighting for, then he told us all to go back home and say our last goodbyes to our loved ones, 'cause ya never know what could happen to any of us.

"I mean hell, I guess I'm gonna be the first to admit, but I'm pretty nervous about this myself. Now I know I ain't giving ya as much time as those seven days Cloud gave ya, but well, I just wanna give ya the option, 'cause I'm pretty sure you all got some things to do and people to say yer goodbyes to. I can drop you all off where ya need to go and tonight we'll meet back up and head to Modeoheim. And well, Cloud said if some of you don't come back, he wouldn't hold it against ya, so… I won't hold it against ya, either."

Cid crossed his arms again and stood in silence with the side of his lip raised, waiting for his answers.

"Well, if I go back to Wutai, Godo'd probably chain me to my bed and pour concrete over the windows and doors… so I'm staying!"

Cid nodded, then looked over at Tifa. "What about you, Teefs?"

Tifa lowered her head to the floor. "I… don't have anybody to go home to." It was true. The Nibelheim she knew was no more, and both her parents were long dead. She raised her face and gave a light nod. "So I'm staying, too."

"Vince?"

"…"

"I'll take that as a 'stay.'" With a sneer, Cid then turned to Jethro. "You?"

The blonde swordsman merely gave his hallmark smirk. "I'm staying, as well."

Cid nodded again and then turned to the newest addition to the group, who looked as if he had been staring right at the sky captain the entire time without blinking. The two just stared at each other for a few seconds, Cid waiting for Cleon to answer, and Cleon just being Cleon.

Finally, Cid elected to begin. "Y'know, to tell ya truth, from what Yuffie and Tifa been telling me 'bout how much you didn't wanna go in the first place, I would've thought you'd be the first to jump at the opportunity to get outta this whole thing."

Cleon just shrugged his shoulders, preserving the same blank, dumb look on his face.

"Now, you sure? No place ya wanna go? Say yer goodbyes, anything like that?"

"Do you have family?" Tifa inquired. "Aren't you from somewhere in Wutai? We could take you there in no time."

Cleon just kept staring blankly towards Cid's direction. After some time, he blinked and looked around to notice everybody was staring at him.

"What?"

Cid scratched the back of his head. "Boy, were you even listening to a word we said?!"

"Honestly... no-ooo," he confessed in an awkwardly apologetic drawl.

"Okay, do ya wanna go to Wutai or not?"

"I thought we were going to Modeoheim?"

"Naw naw, I mean if you wanna go see your family or something. Y'know, go back home to Wutai."

"Uh... did I miss something here?"

Tifa and Yuffie traded a look, just as perplexed. "You're not from Wutai?"

"What? _No."_

"But you were using that southern dialect last night," Yuffie chimed in. "You even look like a southerner."

"Yeah... but I'm pretty sure I'm not."

"Then how do you know that dialect?"

"I dunno how I know. I just know that I know it."

"Then where the are hell you from?!"

"I dunno."

"What?" Jethro asked, head tilted to the side.

"How could you not know where you came from?" Yuffie inquired with a puzzled shake of her head. "Or wait, are you a native of Junon?"

"I don't think so."

"You sound lost, son," guessed Cid. "It's like you got amnesia or something."

"Well," Cleon started with a shrug of his shoulders and an idle shake of his head, "I don't remember anything before like, five years ago."

"Five years ago…?" Tifa trailed off in a whisper as she thought back._  
_

"Well what _do_ ya remember?"

"Forgive me for being rude," Jethro interrupted just as Cleon was about to open his mouth, prompting all eyes to turn to him, "But this doesn't seem to be getting us anywhere. I'm sure we're all ready to go to Modeoheim, assuming your crew and you are willing. The sooner, the better."

The staff and captain all gave their nods.

"Well," Cid waned in an agreeing timbre, but he still found Jethro's interruption of Cleon's origins and such eagerness to go to Modeoheim a little suspicious, "I guess you're right." Still, he could not theorize what possible connection there could be between the ex-rebel and the teenaged street punk, so he instead turned to his crew, who were all already starting back to their work stations. "A'right, boys, let's get a move on!"

"Yeah," Yuffie added while stretching, oblivious to any undertones, "It's more relaxing to get there now and chill out till zero hour instead of having to rush all the way over there at the last second, anyway."

--

It was now late afternoon, and the airship had just landed approximately fifteen miles from Modeoheim as suggested by Cid to avoid detection. With over ten hours left before the operation would begin, Yuffie fell back down on her bed in the room she shared with Tifa, whom had already left a few minutes prior to get something to eat at the ship's newly constructed mess hall. Yuffie was bored out of her mind, but did not feel like sleeping yet, even with the comforting fact that, in addition to a mess hall and an expanded residential quarter, Cid had outfitted each sleeping accommodation with an array of sensitive motion sensors that were mathematically set up in such a way that nearly every inch of the room outside of the beds were covered. All that was needed was for one to press a secret code at the head of the bed to activate and deactivate the alarms system. Cid assured that the system was foolproof, and that everyone should sleep easy without fear of the female jester's nocturnal attacks.

Instead of napping, Yuffie laid on the mattress while tossing one of her Materias up and down into the air, catching it almost every time. She let her mind wander, and her memories led her to think back to recent events such as great moments she had in the battles yesterday and the little adventures she shared with Vincent as they worked together to fight the rebels and Neo-ShinRa. She found herself thinking about last night when she had stayed by the injured gunslinger's side all the way until morning, and loathed how hard that was in itself with the noisy, earsplitting singing of Reno, his friend whom he constantly referred to in a shout as Scud, and their several inebriated NMI acquaintances. They had stayed up a good, long while in one of the apartment's kitchens, their clanking bottles and off-key vocals seeming tailor-made to annoy the daylights out of her and her alone, as nobody else seemed to complain.

After a few more minutes of repetitive tossing, Yuffie finally let off a loud, lengthy groan and shot up to her feet. She walked to the door, unlocked it--she had requested Tifa do so on her way out in case a certain blonde ex-SOLDIER decided to drop by for an unannounced visit--and exited out into the hallway. She looked up and down the metallic corridor, rubbing her bare arms due to the chilly climate of the airship being in such freezing terrain, and started towards the end that had a sign directing to the mess hall.

She turned the corner, but before she exited out into the engine room, she heard a door creak open behind her and she turned her head to see Cleon step out of a nearby room, entirely clad in heavy winter clothing complete with a scarf and beanie. She rolled her eyes as he passed and they began walking side by side.

"Cleon," Yuffie greeted.

"Yuffie," he acknowledged likewise.

They were on the second platform from the first floor, the latter of which lead to the command deck, meeting room, and the empty stables. The whole airship had been renovated and redesigned since the damage it sustained from the Northern Crater escape during Meteorfall. The entire Highwind itself was significantly less commodious, particularly the previously cavernous engine room. It was cut down in size to accommodate more amenities that made travel on an airship much more convenient and comfortable, so the reduction in space was substantially made up for.

"Gawd, it's freezing, isn't it?"

"Yeup."

"I'm hungry, aren't you?"

"Yeup."

"You're not listening."

"Yeup."

"Blah blah, blibbity shoe jack city fish."

"Yeup."

"..."

"Yeup."

They entered the mess hall where everybody else had already congregated. The area was as big as half of the command deck, albeit with a normally-elevated ceiling overhead. A stark contrast to the rest of the metallic, grated airship, it was a cozy section of the Highwind complete with everything one could ask for in such a barren, wintry environment, like tranquil red carpeting, a working full-room heater, actual furniture, and the pleasant aroma of microwaved food and freshly made coffee.

The corner closest to the main ingress had comfortable-looking armchairs and couches erected beside two end tables with decorative lamps on their surfaces that gave off a warm, auburn glow. It was a haunt that would be perfect for Vincent Valentine, who actually really was sitting there by himself in his typical, stoic manner. Yuffie gave a smile to the gunslinger as she passed by, prompting a greeting nod in response.

Yuffie and Cleon ambled up to the large trestle table bolted down at the far end of the room where the off-duty crew and the rest of the strike team were seated, eating, drinking, and chatting. The duo exchanged their greetings, found their seats, and settled down.

"How far are we from Modeoheim?" asked Yuffie.

"'Bout twenty-five klicks." Cid replied. "They shouldn't be able to detect us from here."

"Wait, 'twenty-five klicks'? What's a 'klick'?"

"Twenty-five 'kilometers.' Around fifteen and a half miles."

"You guys hungry?" one of the crew members offered. "Plenty of food in the fridge and the microwave's over there."

"Food!" Yuffie screeched like a Neanderthal as she chaotically shot up and sprinted towards the small refrigerator. Suddenly, "What the hell?!" She was pushed out of the way by Cleon, who had already beat her there. "How'd you get here so fast?!"

"Slow Time's not just for combat."

What should have been a simple acquiring of nutritional sustenance turned into a childish tug of war in front of the fridge. After a short spat, Yuffie crossed her arms in defiance and conceded with a brattish huff complete with a stamp of her foot for good measure. After the taller teenager grabbed a covered tray, he headed over to the microwave behind the adjacent counter. He popped it open and placed his dinner into the appliance, pressed the quick heat button, but grumbled when the microwave showed no signs of life.

He followed the appliance's power cord to the outlet and saw that it was not even plugged into the wall socket. He sighed, reinserted the plug, and suddenly heard the microwave door open, close, and switch on. He shot back up and saw Yuffie standing triumphantly in front of the appliance with a crafty smirk painted on her face, pleased with her obvious treachery.

"Shenanigans! I hate you."

"What?" she huffed. "That's impossible. _Everybody _loves Yuffie Kisaragi!_" _She added to this playfully conceited claim by resting her fists on her waist with her lips pulled back into the most arrogant of smirks, a brief pose that lasted until several coughs sounded at the trestle table."Oh, come on!"

She glared daggers at the seven people seated at the metal table, particularly the three certain individuals who had made the noises. She never strayed her gaze even after the microwave rang to signify that her dinner was warmed. She walked to the trestle table and sat at the head, her brows lowered at the three individuals in front of her on either side, searching for any explanation. Tifa timidly strayed her head to the side, Jethro stared back with an amused countenance on his lips, and Cid blew smoke out of his nostrils.

"Oh my gawd!" the teenaged princess squawked. "Tifa?"

The female bartender hesitantly turned her head back at her with her brows raised in inquiry, feigning innocence. "I'm sorry, what?"

"What-_ever_! Cid?"

"I ain't gettin' involved…"

Yuffie rolled her eyes and turned to the ex-SOLDIER. "Jethro, you always liked me. Hell, you tried to have your way with me like a bazillion times, right?! Come on tell him, tell Cleon, tell him."

Jethro slowly ran his hand through his pointy bangs with his lips idly pouted, buying a few moments to choose his words. "Well, Miss Kisaragi," Jethro started in his trademark relaxed manner, "While I can _never_ grow weary of your _incredibly_ delightful disposition… well, quite honestly, my dear, I have my eyes set on Madison Lefebvre of the Turks." he added bluntly, effectively shutting up the fuming princess for a few more seconds.

Suddenly, "Vincent!!" Her unexpected outcry caused said individual to shoot her a quick glare from the other end of the room. "Back me up."

The gunslinger just stared at her in complete silence.

"See?! Vinnie's with me."

Cleon sat down at the table across from the little ninja and began to pick at his food with a plastic fork. "Even your boyfriend's against you."

Yuffie immediately widened her eyes, her cheeks flushed a bright crimson at his sudden statement. Cleon shouted after Yuffie kicked his shin from under the table.

"Ixnay on the oyfriend-bay!"

Cleon thinned his eyes at her speedy rebuttal in a different dialect, the silly joke jargon coined by children best known to be used by people when they were kids as a sneaky code language to communicate sensitive information. He replied in the same jargon, she said something back to the affirmative, but after awhile it seemed that insults started getting traded and the two continued their foreign exchange for a few more moments, both shouting over each other's words and trying to yell louder than the other, much to the utter confusion of those looking on.

"Alright, alright!" Yuffie finally screeched, ending their comical quarrel. "Whatever!"

"Whatever…"

Yuffie angrily huffed and went back to picking at her food.

"…So you mean to tell me you wouldn't help me at all, even if I was hanging off the side of a cliff?" she demanded, apparently bothered by the supposed fact that eked out in the middle of their tirade, but mostly just to change the subject.

Cleon winced. "What does it matter? Can't you just jump down and land on your feet?"

"Not the point, r-tard. You wouldn't help out at all?"

"Who do I look like? Valentine?" He shook his head and returned to his meal. "God, always nagging…"

And with that simple wisecracking retort, he left the blushing Yuffie to sit in the figurative hot seat, open to the prying eyes of everybody before her. She was actually speechless for once, trying to decipher what had just happened. The more superseding sentiment of embarrassment racked her more than the strange Mage's odd mannerisms, as she was visually flushed from Cleon's riposte concerning her and a certain gunslinger. For some time, nothing could be heard but the clicking and scrapping of Cleon's fork rubbing against his dinner tray.

Finally, Cid broke the awkward quietude. "Hey Yuffs, ya a'right?"

Yuffie's blush reddened even further at the query of how she was feeling. She could not be sure whether or not they suspected anything. _Wait__ no, there's nothing to suspect! Me and Vincent are just friends!_

Without thinking, she took a quick glance towards the corner where Vincent Valentine was supposed to be sitting, but he appeared to be long gone, a small source of relief for the little ninja.

"Yuffie?" Tifa echoed again.

"I-I'm fine," she answered back immediately, but then gulped down a nervous yelp once realizing that her reply was unnaturally shrill and high-pitched, so she cleared her throat before continuing, "But, um… I-I'm gonna go get some fresh air." she announced before standing up and walking out of the room as calm as she could, trying not to draw attention to her vermilion face.

--

Yuffie immediately shivered as she ascended the staircase and reached the main observation deck of the airship. She rubbed the sides of her arms as she scanned the hilly white landscape bathed by what remained of the setting sun's warm, orange glow. There was nothing but desolate, icy wasteland for as far as the eye could see, and nothing to hear but the forlorn cry of the wind's howling unbounded.

Still slowly rubbing her arms in her attempt to ward off the cold, the little ninja ambled slowly towards the far side railing. She stopped at the edge and leaned down on the rail, sighing at the distant sun sluggishly lowering itself behind the mountain. For some time she stood there in silence, her elbow rested on the bar and her cheek buried into her palm as she lazily watched the nothingness of a perpetual winter.

"Ya been there this whole time?" Yuffie suddenly asked. She glanced over her right shoulder to look at the gunslinger leaning quietly against the metallic wall at the back corner of the deck adjacent to the staircase and the rear turbine. His arms crossed over his chest, Vincent turned his head at her, but with his unreadable stare, it was impossible to tell if he even cared about how Yuffie knew he was there or not. "Yeah," she drawled indolently, regardless, "Real perceptive of me, ain't it?"

The caped marksman did not reply, another cue for Yuffie to start one of her one-sided 'conversations.' But not this time. For some reason, she could not really bring herself to look at him. She herself just returned to idly watch the poignant, glacial vista presented before her and scoffed inside at such irony. The chilly atmosphere was a classic fairy tale scene, a clichéd premise set up for some tender, romantic dialogue between the two crushing protagonists of some cheesy story book.

Yuffie gagged at the idea, but though she loathed such a happening, she half-expected that with her luck as of late, Vincent would approach her and stand beside her at any second, just like some played out formula. She took a glance over her shoulder, but was surprised to see that Vincent was gone. She stood up and looked around, seeing the gunslinger no where in sight.

--

Vincent sat in quiet contemplation on his bed, listening to the howling nihility of Chaos' existence. The laughter of his demons seemed to echo throughout the twisting nether of his mind, something he had trouble tolerating. He meditated to suppress the literal monsters within him, though it appeared to do little good. Chaos was getting stronger, of that there was no doubt, and the devilish fiend was loving every minute of it. Vincent thought back to the night at the incident in the bathroom of the inn back in Junon where he contemplated leaving his compatriots to better ensure the safety.

He still disliked the idea of inadvertently causing harm to his allies should his demons be unleashed. He had been avoiding the little ninja as much as he could lately due the greatest worry he felt for her should he lose control to Chaos, though it was as if the fates played against him; situation after situation presented itself so far where he was stuck by her side, like with his incapacitation at the NMI hideout or this most recent coincidence when she had happened upon the observation deck.

His reflections broken, he opened his eyes and looked to the door at the sound of a light knocking. He stared tacitly at the egress for some moments as if awaiting for a voice to announce who was behind the door, but there came none, so he rose to his feet and walked to the door. As he turned the knob, he held a logical prediction deep down as to who he owed this visit to, but he hoped his forecast would fail to come to fruition. The door wisped open and his cold scarlet hues stared down into nervous hazel.

"Hey, Vincent," she greeted sheepishly. She was standing with a timorous veneer, a poorly-hidden apprehension tugging her features as she looked up at the stoic marksman.

"Yuffie, what are you doing here?"

"Nothin'," she replied while inviting herself in. She went straight to the side of his bed and planted herself down. "Just because."

Vincent turned around. "Barret and Cid aren't here. I see no need to trade rooms again."

Yuffie chuckled diffidently, remembering that night at Tifa and Cloud's house in Kalm. "You've been working on your jokes like I told ya." She smiled, but there was something in it that made it seem forced.

Vincent squinted his eyes, sensing that something was bothering her. "You okay?"

Yuffie raised her brows, surprised that he of all people was actually initiating a conversation. It was rare, but still seemed as if it was something that was impossible for him to do. She felt that she at least owed him an explanation for her unexpected visit.

"Hey Vincent," she started with some hesitation, "I actually came to see if _you _were okay."

"I'm fine."

"Well, I mean, you seemed kind of distant lately."

Vincent sighed inwardly. She had found out.

"I was just like, wondering if I did anything to upset you or whatever."

Vincent shook his head. "What makes you think that?"

"I dunno, just felt something. Call it woman's intuition or some stupid crud like that. Just wanted to make sure we were cool, y'know?"

"There's nothing wrong, Yuffie."

Then there was an awkward silence between them, or at least awkward by Yuffie's standards because of the indecipherable mien Vincent maintained. She idly rubbed the back of her head, trying to find the words to clarify why she was there, but then realized that there was no such explanation possible and that there was no real need for her to be in Vincent's room to see Vincent in the first place.

_Oh gawd…_ she thought. _If Tifa and Cleon find out about this, I'll never hear the end of it…_

"Yuffie?"

"Oh," she raised her head, "Yeah well, uh…"

"Yuffie, if it's what you really want to hear, then yes, we're 'cool.'"

The little ninja smiled, finding humor at his uncharacteristic usage of words.

"Yeah, anyways," she drawled while stretching and lazily plopping back down on the bed, "I was just bored and decided to bug the crap outta you."

If Vincent had it in him, he would have rolled his eyes. There was another long silence between the two after Vincent found a seat at the corner of the small room, but after some time, Yuffie felt a compelling urge to get personal, remembering how she tried to explain to the pugnacious street punk how Vincent was _not _a vampire, and how her explanation to the NMI concerning Vincent's past had a painful amount of holes in it. She realized that, despite their recent companionship during such a long journey through rough and trying times, she herself really did not know much about the caped marksman. She had actually done most of the talking. Not like Vincent was much of the conversationist type, anyhow.

"Hey," she started, still lying on the bed while staring at the blank metallic ceiling overhead, "Umm..." She slowly sat up on the mattress, keeping her gaze to the floor as she tried to figure out how to begin. "Vincent… tell me about what happened to you?"

She raised her head and stared into those vacant ruby hues. He was taciturn, not so much that he did not wish to speak, but because he really did not know what to tell her.

"And you didn't _really_ get to answer my question from before."

Vincent slightly shifted his head, silently asking the inevitable inquiry.

"About, y'know..." she said slowly. "If it hurt?"

The gunslinger searched his memories for what she could have meant. Suddenly, it hit him. The curious young teenager had first hinted at the question during their ride on the Gold Saucer gondola, then in greater detail outside of Zebadiah Mahoney's base in Midgar. He remembered trying to search for an answer, but was interrupted when the silver-haired rebel leader exited from the shadows, clapping at such a 'beautiful' dialogue. Then they were attacked and he was knocked out, only to later awake to the little ninja's loud arousals outside of the city three or four hours later.

He knew he brought it up later on at Kalm. He tried to reason with himself that he _did _give her an answer, but at that moment he realized that it wasn't the kind of answer she was really looking for.

"Falling in love…" Yuffie said, "Did it hurt?"

For once, Vincent showed a hint of an emotion and sighed. He redirected his stare to the opposite wall and kept it there, as if giving Yuffie the hint that it was too personal to discuss and that she should shut her mouth. The little ninja took the apparent clue and lowered her head, trying to hide the rejection she felt. She cursed herself for getting so intrusive, feeling more uncomfortable than all the times before combined. Actually feeling invasive, a first, she started to get up to leave.

"I was employed in the ShinRa Manufacturing Department in Administrative Research…" Yuffie froze and shot her gaze at the caped marksman sitting in the corner. "When I first met her."

Yuffie was actually shocked, but she regained her composure and slowly sat back down. "The Turks."

Vincent nodded. "I was tasked to supervise the Jenova Project in Nibelheim, and assigned to protect one of the staff members. Lucrecia… she was an assistant in the Jenova Project to Professor Gast Faremis. It was my job to keep her safe, my job to watch over her. We ended up spending quite a lot of time together. We shared many things, socialized against orders… Then one day, I saw something on her computer. I discovered she had some sort of link to my father's death. He had, at the time, recently passed due to a freak accident. She became upset and ran out of the room. I didn't speak to her for days. I continued with my job, and every time I spotted her, I went up to try to talk with her. Every time, she said she was too busy and had much work to do. It wasn't long until I found out that she had been spending almost all of her time with a colleague of hers, another scientist… Hojo."

"That geezer from the Mako cannon…"

Vincent gave another nod. "I was always against the use of humans as test subjects, and Lucrecia was going to be used to give birth to their newest experiment. I tried to stop her, but she told me that she was sure that was what she wanted. She would later give birth to their son, Sephiroth. I could have prevented Sephiroth from being born, I could have prevented all of this from happening. I should have stopped her. I should have, but I did nothing. That was my sin. After she proceeded with the treatment, she became very ill. When I confronted Hojo… the next thing I knew, I woke up as the monster that stands on this planet today."

"That's so sad, Vincent... but, you're _not_ a monster! You're a good guy! You've already proven that like a gazillion times."

The gunslinger simply stared at her. After a few seconds of silence, his only response was one of those low, short, completely serious chuckles.

--

"Chaos is growing within him."

"In time, it's strength and influence will swell to an untold capacity the likes of which we've never seen."

"That could either make or break us."

"We can't control it, we've tried that already, remember?"

"Then we must destroy it."

"But how?"

The four shapeless, pitch-black masses stayed silent in the perpetual darkness. One of them directed their attention to the middle of their circle. A familiar little girl slowly materialized before them, her arms wrapped around a brightly-decorated female jester puppet.

"Moira," one of them greeted in a very gentle voice, an absolute antithesis to the tone of their alien conversation prior, "How are you?"

"I'm so lonely…" she answered forlornly. "No matter what I do, no matter what I say, no matter how hard I try, nobody wants to be my friend… they don't want to play with me." She began to sob, a small tear slowly running down her porcelain face.

"It's been so, so long, my child," another one of them added in a tender, sympathetic timbre. "You have been sitting here in the dark for far too long."

The little girl began to whine, a sight so otherworldly pitiful that it looked as if it would be able to tug at even the most hardest of heart strings. "I just wanted them to be my friends."

"We know, Moira," the third ostensibly empathized, "We know you have been sitting here while the rest of us perform that bad man Mr. Mahonney's deeds."

"He's a meanie!" she sniveled.

"Yes, which is why we let you rest. He was such a bad man. But do not fret, young one. He has been taken care of. And now you can come and go as you please!"

Moira gasped and looked up with a joyous look on her paled face. "Really?!" she asked happily.

"Truly. And we've a surprise, as well. We've found her. We've found your princess, and she's ready to play."

Her smile grew larger. "I want to see her!"

"Yes, of course, you will. There is a slight problem, though. There are bad people keeping her prisoner. The ones you saw from before, the caped man with the gun, and Jethro, too, you remember him? They and their friends, they won't let her go. That is why they fought you back, that is why they never wanted to play with you. The princess is trapped by these evil people, Moira, and she needs your help."

"I want to help her!"

"Yes, she is so sad. You need to go to her. Go now, my child. Rescue her and bring her back with us. Then you can play forever."

The little girl rose to her feet with a big smile. "I can't wait! I can't wait to play with her!" she giggled and then disappeared in the blink of an eye.

The four masses then stared at each other with their eyes that were not there. The nothingness that permeated their world was not so much a solid, blank void, but a misty, streaky nether, like a blackened, floating stream of sorts.

"Why do we want her to kill them? They need to go to Modeoheim."

"Do not worry."

"I see no logic in this ruse," proclaimed the fourth one, who had remained silent throughout the entire dialogue. "We would need those people to attack the base."

"If they failed and died, their friends in Junon would be whipped into a frenzy. They will amass their armies, as will their enemies."

"This is a dangerous gamble," the fourth one retorted, her voice the only feminine one in the group. "She is much too powerful, especially with the aid of the entire negative Lifestream. She could become stronger than even the great mother. Though she has not yet realized her full potential, her abilities grow more potent with each passing day. Should she ever find out..."

"What does it matter?" came the riposte. "We're already dead."

* * *

**Author's Note: Words go here.  
**

* * *


	23. Heroes of the Day

**Beyond Paradise II**

_Disclaimer: I do not own Yuffie, Vincent, or anything/anybody else in this fiction, they belong to Square Enix. I also don't own previously established fictitious characters such as Moira, Zeb, or Jethro. They were created by the original fan fic's author, tolerant. Though, I DO claim a childish, unpatented ownership over my original/semi-original characters--Cleon, Questa, Max, Rakk, and Havern Glaire. And the recurring smoking guard. He's tiiight. This is not an "official" sequel by the original author, more like a tribute by me since the original has been discontinued, unfortunately. I am not affiliated with tolerant in any way, shape, or form (other than being a fan, of course)._

**Author's Note: BP2's alive and kickin', muthaf****s! Writer's block can only hold me back for so long. :D**

**

* * *

**_  
The window burns to light the way back home__  
A light that warms no matter where they've gone  
They're off to find the hero of the day  
But what if they should fall by someone's wicked way?_

_Still the window burns, time so slowly turns  
Someone there is sighing  
Keepers of the flames, do you feel your name?  
Can't you hear your babies crying?_

_Don't want your aid, but the fist I've made  
For years, can't hold or feel  
No, I'm not all me so please excuse me  
While I tend to how I feel _

_Hero of the Day  
--James Hetfield_

- **Chapter 33: Heroes of the Day**

The road to Midgar. Rather, the airspace above miles upon miles of barren wasteland leading to what remained of the once-grand metropolitan expanse after it was virtually obliterated by Meteor's infernal, prodigious descent. For a particular cadre of shady-looking individuals and their recently acquired company of misfit adrenaline junkies, it was the hopeful highway towards a meticulously-crafted victory. The world-stomping joint operation between AVALANCHE, NMI, and the Turks required the latter's expertise to shut down the eight Mako reactors around the dangerous vestiges of Midgar, a city in ashes that had been thrown into utter turmoil where chaos ruled the streets.

Most of the survivors of Meteorfall had long since relocated to the newly-established town of Edge on the parallel rim of the former megalopolis, but a notable portion of the urbanites had remained in the ruins of Midgar for various reasons. Now that the truth of Neo-ShinRa's aspirations would soon reach the public ear, those remaining in Midgar for the rationale of supporting the now-defunct anti-AVALANCHE movement virtually no longer yielded any true threats. The anarchic criminality perverting the widespread, dilapidated hovels were now the only points of caution.

Thunderous, mechanical drones echoed all over the arid valley as three gunships zoomed across the cloudy night skies. The Turks and their new allies charged forward with all speed towards deadline, intentions peaked for making up the time lost cavorting in Edge. In the cockpit of the lead chopper, the red haired Turk and his reticent partner for life headed the controls.

"Think we'll make deadline?" Reno asked casually, the first words the two pilots exchanged since departing Edge.

"Wouldn't really matter," answered Rude. "It's not like they literally expected us all to start the operation in perfect sync."

"Yeah, I know. It wouldn't make any sense and wouldn't make that much of a difference, anyways." In essence, Reno was right. They were scheduled to be the first to attack out of the four strike forces. Though, it would be passed the edge of reason for their operation's coordination to really mean anything beyond words. As long as the Neo-ShinRa establishments in Junon, Costa del Sol, Midgar, and Modeoheim fell on the same night, the outcome would be the same, so there was much more allowance for a large margin of error, so to speak. "Just meant if you think we'll be all set to infiltrate by ten," Reno elaborated.

"It's nine-forty, now," the bald Turk said after glancing at the small digital clock in front of them. "I would've said yes if we didn't spend so much time drinking in the bar with your old buddies."

"Don't act like you didn't enjoy it. Nothing wrong with getting your buzz on before heading out for a mission that could very well be your last. Hell, even Kaemon and Maddy joined us, can't argue with that."

"That's so like you, Reno. Everything just has to be some sort of game."

"Oh, don't start with _that_ again. We don't work for ShinRa anymore. We're free to do what we want, when we want."

"You did that during every mission we ever did," Rude countered as he flicked several switches on the console. "It's different this time."

"Why, 'cause this time we're saving the world?"

At that, there was a long silence between the two; so long, that it would have been unnervingly, excruciatingly awkward if the pair hadn't known each other so well for so long. After some time of listening to nothing but the muffled whirring of the chopper's rotor blades, Reno tilted his head back onto his seat.

"'Cause this time we're saving the world instead of helping to ruin it," he corrected meekly in a tone so uncharacteristically not like him that it took the bald Turk completely by surprise. Rude slowly turned his head toward the red-haired man next to him to wordlessly ask the inevitable question, his thinned eyes hidden behind the shades he refused to take off. "I guess," Reno began with hesitation, "I guess I'm still not used to it. To being on the other side, this time, I mean."

"Who are you and what have you done with Reno?"

Reno smiled lightly with an oddly sheepish chuckle. "I know it sounds crazy."

"Especially coming from you, of all people."

"Yeah. I dunno… I was just thinking about it a lot lately. Thinking about it all. Every time big daddy Shinra sent us out to do his dirty work… taking out the trash, dealing with some uprising, 'acquiring' another 'specimen' in the name of science…"

"We were just doing our job. You were the one that taught us that."

"I know I was. But I just never really thought about it. Not until the WEAPONs started attacking and the company went under, that is. You know why the WEAPONs attacked the cities, right?" Rude remained silent, a sign for Reno to continue. "C'mon, you remember the legends, don't you? The WEAPONs were created to protect the Planet against Jenova. When the Cetra contained it, the WEAPONs were no longer required, so they were encased in Mako until the day they would've been needed to protect the Planet once again."

"If they were designed to protect the Planet, why did they start killing everybody?"

"That's what got me thinking after I figured it out. I mean, think about it. The WEAPONs were reawakened right after Sephiroth summoned Meteor. They were designed to combat the greatest threat, but they couldn't even get close enough to Sephiroth to shoot him a mean glare 'cause he was behind that energy barrier. I'm guessing they went for the next best things on the hit list— Junon and Midgar."

"The Mako," Rude spoke as he turned his gaze back to the front. "The life force of the Planet itself."

"Yeah, and the conglomerate who was responsible for reaping it… Yeah, you get what I mean now, right?"

"Yup."

Frowning slightly, Reno knitted his brows at his compatriot. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you already knew that."

Rude gave a shrewd scoff. "Yeah," he confessed.

"Why didn't you say anything? Could've saved me the breath!"

"Curiosity."

"Well, I guess you're not so much 'brawn over brains', after all."

If Rude had it in him, he would have rolled his eyes. Instead, he decided to fancy a question. "But why the change of heart?"

"Well," Reno said while stifling a rather timely yawn, "It just hit me. I don't remember when it happened, but it did. I can't really explain what I'm feeling, okay? It's new to me."

"I got the gist of what's up," Rude assured while idly raising his hand in acknowledgement. "You see it all the time in books and movies."

"Ha, tell me about it. I feel like some sorta stupid character in a stupid story just having a change of heart to advance the stupid plot. But, I dunno…" Reno repeated with a shrug. "Y'know, I still think about Sector 7..."

"Don't be so hard on yourself. We _all _had a hand in that one."

"But _I_ was the one who set up the bomb. _I _was the one who pushed the goddamn button. I didn't even stop to think about it, I didn't even hesitate. I just pressed it. Every single person in Sector 7 died that night, because of me. They didn't even see it coming, they had no warning. All because of me," he echoed awkwardly as he idly rubbed the side of his nose with his finger.

"Look, man…"

"It's true, though. Hundreds of innocent women, children, all because I was following orders. All because I was just 'doing my job...'" He gave a long sigh. "Must be why I was so adamant to jump on this whole crazy 'save the world' band wagon AVALANCHE cooked up. It won't make up for anything by far, but well, at least I'm _trying _to do _something,_ right? I dunno… But now that I'm on the other side of things, everything just feels so… right, now. I guess I could get used to this."

"You saying you'd be willing to work with AVALANCHE again in the future?"

Reno chuckled once more. "We'll see."

--

Sometime later in the passenger cabin of that same gunship, Madison checked her watch once again, having lost count of the number of times she had done so in the last half-hour. "We're still behind schedule, but we should be coming up on Midgar very soon," she announced to all those in the cabin with her.

The quartet of armed men around her each gave various acknowledgements before returning to their noisy, four-way conversation. These were part of the bunch that the Turks picked up at Edge. They didn't seem to be a gang or anything like that, but one could not be sure. Reno had always merely referred to them all as 'old friends of his,' and nobody had bothered to pester Reno for details. The other Turks were content enough that they had reliable support.

The rest of Reno's friends were separated into the other choppers for a total of thirteen. That, plus the eleven Turks, gave a maximum transport capacity of twenty-four men for the operation.

Elena was right beside Madison, sitting quietly on the bench in total patience. She had been maintaining this stern and even intimidating taciturnity since take-off, despite her comical stumble onto the cabin floor upon her initial embarkment when she tripped over the last step. Ever the desperate professional, the blonde Turk had pretended like nothing happened by quickly finding her seat, completely ignoring the restrained snickers her fellow passengers gave her.

Fighting the urge to check her watch another time, Madison turned to her younger companion and gave her a tap on the arm with the back of her hand. "You doing alright?"

Elena nodded. "Couldn't be better."

Madison gave a little smile at her stifled enthusiasm despite the younger woman's condition. Elena was still technically injured, but ready and willing to carry on with the mission. Before the coalition all went their separate ways from Junon that morning, her wounds were completely healed thanks to Cleon's Full-Cure Materia, but a bandage still covered Elena's stomach underneath that suit of hers. No matter how powerful a potion or restorative Materia could be, they couldn't repair damaged bones and organs. Fortunately for Elena, a single cracked rib was all that stood in her way.

"You really don't have to do this," Madison encouraged, referring to her younger companion's wish to accompany her, Reno, and Rude to shut down the Sector 1 Mako reactor. "We have more than enough guys needed to go in for the reactors…"

"And what am I supposed to do in the meantime," Elena cut her off, making her voice clear and determined, "Stay back and watch the helicopters?"

Madison frowned and discontinued the suggestion, as it was obvious that Elena wouldn't have it at all. "It's not that I don't trust in your abilities or anything."

"I know, I know. I'm sorry, I guess I'm just a little… tense."

"Elena, you don't have to feel like you have to prove anything, if that's what's bothering you."

"No, no," Elena reassured, despite that statement not being too far from the truth. "I'm not doing this for me. I'm doing this for Tseng. A-and Rufus," she quickly added, realizing how badly worded that statement would have been had she not made the effort to do so. She was well aware that it was already whispered amongst the other Turks about her attitude towards Tseng as being something more than just a working relationship.

Madison smiled and gave her a warm nod, electing not to say anything for Elena's beneficial comfort, for the sable-haired woman had, on more than one occasion, speculated such a relationship between the two alongside the other Turks, as well, though it was nothing more than teasing words on her part. Honestly, she and Reno had another such 'crush' in mind.

"We're coming up on Midgar," Rude called back from his place in the cockpit, "E.t.a., five minutes."

Madison replied with a thumbs up and faced the four armed men. "You heard him, people, weapons check!" she ordered. The quartet then began to enthusiastically ready their automatic rifles and miscellaneous gear as Madison turned to her side to watch Elena pull back the cocking lever on her pistol and return the firearm to the holster underneath her lapel. Letting curiosity get the better of her, Madison gave in to an impulse to ask the younger girl a rather personal question, seeing as how this could very well be the last chance for her to do so. "Hey, Elena," she started carefully, deliberately waiting for eye contact, "Mind if I ask you something… personal?"

Elena's face seemed to pale as her cheeks flushed a light red, believing that this could only mean one thing. "Wha-wha, what do you wanna know?"

Madison chuckled. "Just, y'know, might not get another chance to ask and you don't have to answer if you don't want to," she explained quickly so she could get straight to the point. "Is there—"

"No! Nothing! Tseng just really respects me, okay? I-I mean, I just really respect Tseng. No, wait, it _is_ the other way around, but it doesn't matter anyways 'cause we both respect each other a lot and that's why it might seem like—"

"No, not Tseng," Madison interrupted while holding back laughter as she waved her hand in an attempt to calm her down. "I'm talking about… y'know," she trailed off and let her nod towards the cockpit do the talking.

Elena knitted her brows in confusion and slowly turned to see part of the back of Reno's head through the narrow passageway. She shot back to the sable-haired Turk with a face full of insult and outrage. "What the hell!" she shouted in a hushed, gravely tone. "Reno is the _last_ guy I would ever even consider…!"

"No, not Reno, nobody likes Reno!" Madison spoke over her with the same tone of voice. "I mean… _Rude._"

Elena's jaw dropped and she felt her organs fall to the pit of her stomach, unable to think of how to answer her. For some time, they simply sat there staring at each other, speechless Elena with the same, eyes-bulged expression, and mischievous Madison biting her lower lip in a desperate bid to hold back the laughs. Fortunately for Elena, a digitalized tone suddenly rang in their earpieces, the gadgets they all wore set to a common frequency for easy communication between everybody.

"_Echo One, Echo Three, this is Echo Two," _Scud's voice chimed in from the second gunship. _"I'm picking up several faint heat signatures coming up from just ahead of us to the northwest. They're very weak, though… It's probably nothing, but I was just curious if you guys can detect 'em on your radar, too."_

"_Uh," _Reno drawled, _"Nothing on our thermal, we don't see anything."_

"_Neither do we,_" added the female Turk pilot from the third gunship.

"_Yeah,_ _it's probably nothing_,_"_ Reno offered, "_Just some travelers with a campfire or—"_

"_Wait," _the female pilot interjected. "_We're picking something up."_

"_Oh, there we go," _Reno returned. _"We see 'em now, too. Yeah… Like I was saying, they could just be people or wild creatures or whatever."_

"_They're too big," _the female pilot retorted. _"Wait… are they getting brighter?" _

An electrical beep began wailing and the passenger cabin of Echo One suddenly darkened, now engulfed in the frantic glow of flashing red lights. "What the hell's going on?!" one of the four men cried out.

"Son of a bitch, we're being painted!" Reno's shout could be heard from the cockpit.

"_Damn!" _Scud cursed._ "SAM warning, SAM warning, all pilots, prepare to be engaged!"_

"Strap yourselves in, _now_!" Elena ordered the four male passengers, who quickly obeyed.

"_They fired!" _the female pilot feverishly broadcasted. _"Turks, evasive maneuvers, evasive maneuvers!"_

Reno called back for the others in the cabin to hold on, then turned to Rude. "Get ready to fire the decoy flares on my mark. Okay… now!" At that, the aircraft sliced left, and the chopper immediately slanted at a steep angle as multiple heat decoys screamed subsequently out from under the gunship.

The sound of several impacts were soon heard, but it was more of a series of deep, reverberating hums than anything resembling a fiery explosion. All those in the chopper failed to notice this, however, as another problem had eked out it's ugly head.

"_They're firing another volley," _Scud declared over the radio frequency. _"Shit, there's dozens of 'em, incoming!"_

"Rude, Reno, get us outta here!" Madison screeched. The helicopter leveled and soon cut a hard, descending right in an effort to avoid the rapidly approaching hail of missiles.

"_We're hit!" _Scud screamed over the radio. _"Echo Two is going down, repeat, Echo Two is going down…" _Scud continued on to transmit the coordinates of the expected crash site, but the signal faded fast and died out as if their entire helicopter had simply ran out of enough power to broadcast.

"_These aren't ballistics missiles," _declared the female pilot. _"They're hitting us with EMPs to disable the choppers."_

"_They're trying to get us alive? Are they Neo-ShinRa? Who the hell are these guys—?" _

The gunship shook violently with a blast of crackling static and deafening electrical drones before Reno could finish his sentence, and the ambient lights in the aircraft began to flicker and dull out. Amidst the cacophony of all the systems shutting down, Madison could barely make out Rude's voice shouting something about Reno. She turned to Elena and found her bracing herself for the impending crash landing, which reminded her to yell a quick order to the other passengers to brace for impact.

With the controls completely unresponsive, the chopper took a header for the hard ground, but with the aircraft's already low altitude thanks to Reno and Rude's evasive maneuvers prior, it found itself level enough to slide across the surface. Nonetheless, the landing was as vicious as could be, and through the cockpit's view port, they all could see that they were fast approaching the side of a cliff at an alarming speed.

Madison heard the sound of a snap and looked down to see that the buckle on her safety harness had somehow come undone, completely broken off. Rather than taking what few precious seconds there was remaining to theorize that it had probably malfunctioned due to old age, she made a desperate bid to improvise a tight knot between the belts and hope for the best. It didn't work as well as she had anticipated, and a gigantic jolt the chopper took sent the back of her head smashing into the metallic interior behind her. Before everything blacked out, the last thing Madison remembered was catching a fading glimpse of the approaching cliff wall and hearing the long, drawn-out 'woo-hoo!' hollered from one of Reno's crazy friends.

--

"_Hey…" _a voice echoed through the darkness.

There wasn't a stir.

"_Wake up," _it called out again.

It was clearer, louder.

"Maddy, wake up."

Madison's hazel hues shot open to meet Reno's crystal blues. His face soon disappeared within a flood of blinding white light as her eyes struggled to adjust to the luminosity of their surroundings. A few seconds later, her sight readjusted enough for her to find the strength to sit up. Her whole body was sore, but thankfully, nothing seemed to be broken.

"Where are we…?" she asked weakly while placing one hand on the back of her throbbing head and giving her eyes a final rub with the other.

"Somewhere in Midgar, by the looks of it," Reno replied as he rested his hand on her shoulder. "Just sit down for awhile, give yourself a moment to regain your composure."

Madison groaned and rotated a few kinks out of her arms. She then noticed Reno had a small line of dried blood across his forehead and that he was down to his undershirt, his suit jacket no where in sight. She looked down at herself and found that she wasn't that much different; down to her white long sleeve dress shirt and her Electro-Mag Rod missing. Her belt full of throwing knives was gone, too. "How long was I out?"

"I dunno. I just woke up myself. I don't even know what time it is, they took all of our equipment and our weapons."

"What? Who?"

Reno motioned his head towards the direction of the room's only doorway. She saw a tall man standing there, watching them intently. A black balaclava covered his face, and he held a rather worn-looking double-barreled shotgun in his hands. His t-shirt was green and generic, as were his pants and leather boots.

"We were captured by a _gang_?" Madison asked, a little ashamed.

"Hey!" the masked man snapped. "Watch your tone, bird-hair."

Madison thinned her eyes and turned to Reno. "Did he just call me 'bird-hair'?"

"Shuddup!" the man barked before another similar-looking individual walked up from behind him and tapped him on the arm. They faced each other and began to have a hushed conversation, something that the two Turks took as their chance to continue their own little chat.

"The pricks even took my goggles," Reno mumbled under his breath as he plopped down on his behind beside Madison.

"Wait," she started as she looked around the cramped, empty space with cracked concrete walls, "Where's everybody else?"

"Beats me. When I came to, just these two guys were with us, and they don't know any more than we do."

She glanced at the other two men whom she didn't recognize. One was sitting against the far wall, and the second was standing next to him, leaning back on the same wall, as well. Madison was always known for possessing an outstanding memory and was pretty good with faces, as well, something that made her positive that neither of these dirty-groomed men in ragged clothes were any of Reno's friends.

"Who are you guys?" she asked, a little more rudely than she had wanted to.

"We're from here," the standing one replied in a manner mirroring Madison's timbre. "Who the hell are _you_ guys?"

"Friends," Madison quickly lied, intent on preserving the secrecy of their operation. "Just a couple of friends from Junon looking for our other friends. I'm guessing you've no idea where they might be?" Shrugs were her only answer.

"So what're you in here for?" Reno asked their two counterparts.

"Nothin'," the first man claimed, "They just swiped us off the streets this afternoon and brought us here. Said they'd kill us if we didn't come quietly."

"What the hell do these guys want?" Reno muttered as he took a quick glance out of the corner of his eye at the two armed thugs.

"And how the hell did they get their hands on surface-to-air missiles and electromagnetic pulses?" Madison added.

"Electro… what now?" solicited the standing man in all of his ignorance.

"EMPs, dude," his sitting companion explained. "They force electronic devices and vehicles and stuff to shut down." After a short pause, he then tilted his head towards the Turks in question. "You guys were in a whirlybird?"

Reno and Madison both just nodded, figuring that they didn't need to let them know that their 'whirlybird' was an attack helicopter issued to Turks by the old ShinRa corporation. It was at that moment that the boisterous chortles from the doorway led all eyes to turn to the two armed thugs.

"Get up, carrot top," one of masked men ordered Reno while pointing his rifle. "Lucky you, you're tonight's main attraction."

Reno's only answer was a cold glare towards his captors.

"C'mon, tough guy," the other spat, "Get a move on!"

"Yeah, we don't got all night, now!"

Not knowing what else to do, Reno turned back to his fellow Turk, as if he really needed her permission. She frowned, knowing what he was asking, an irony as she recalled how much of a scene he made for the vie of authority back in Junon not too long ago. She didn't have the heart to give any kind of order like that, so she simply gave him a little smile.

"You're call, 'Senior Turk,'" she offered, leaning back onto the wall behind her, and Reno chuckled lightheartedly. "Watch your ass," she added as he stood up and exited the room with his 'escorts'.

He was ushered across the room and into a hallway. The building appeared to be some sort of hideout for the gang, distinguishable by the furniture and other green-clothed hoodlums he saw in some of the rooms they passed. More holding cells like the one he just left were along the route, a couple holding a few familiar faces staring back at him in surprise. He counted five of his Edge friends who must have been captured after the ambush, as well. One of the last few doorways revealed another corridor with what seemed to contain more holding cells, a glimpse which lead Reno to speculate that the rest of his compatriots had to be in the building somewhere.

They lead Reno down a long, shadowy, debris-filled alley with no windows. Unidentifiable puddles stained the floors and left wall, and to the right ran a dilapidated chain link fence, the other side of which was engulfed in total darkness. As they approached the end of the alleyway, the muffled shouts and cheers of a large crowd became clearer and louder.

They stepped into the well-lit enclosure and the masses hooted and hollered. These people were locals, all stuffed into the stands that encircled a caged arena in the middle of the dirty, smoke-filled chamber. Reno wasn't stupid. He knew why he was here. They wanted him to fight— who, or what, though, he still didn't know. It all made sense now that he thought back to the holding room he was just in and realized that the two other men detained in there with Madison and him were big, tough-looking hombres. Their captors kidnapped able-bodied individuals for mere entertainment purposes.

"Aww, he's a sissy!" mocked somebody in the stands, an opening for more of the spectators to follow suit.

"Doesn't even look old enough to shave!"

"That skinny little schoolgirl won't last one minute in the ring!"

Reno ignored the countless insults and the many foam cups, crumpled bits of paper, and pieces of popcorn thrown at him as he was pushed towards the gate of the cage. Dozens gave a sarcastic howl when he effortlessly caught an empty beer bottle lobbed at him from somebody to his right. He froze dead in his tracks and glared viciously at the direction the glass projectile came from before letting the bottle drop to the dirt floor and continuing on to the cage's entrance.

Two more masked thugs stood at the gate and held it open as several gory, beaten bodies were dragged out and out of sight. One of the two sentinels was towering and powerfully built, the other much shorter and obviously female as identifiable by her feminine curves. They both beckoned for him to enter the arena.

When he didn't move, Reno was shoved from behind, to which the red-haired Turk stopped and spun around with eyes staring daggers. "Watch it, boy scout. You have no idea who you're messin' with."

"Oh, please," the taller one sneered while rolling his eyes, his balaclava rolled up halfway to let him better enjoy the cigarette he was smoking.

"Just get in there, already!" the other commanded with a fed up tone as he raised the butt of his shotgun in a brandishing threat.

With a final glower, Reno turned and began towards the entrance of the ring, making an effort to scowl at the masked man and woman standing guard at the gate, waiting for him.

"Get in there, cowboy," the female ordered in an excessively gruff voice as she watched him enter the arena. "And remember that these people paid good money to see a show. Don't disappoint them," she finished before shutting the gate behind him.

_That voice…_ Reno thought before he turned around and locked eyes with the masked woman, who then narrowed her mocha hues in response. The taller thug beside her raised his head and tilted it to the side, very reminiscent to a habit of somebody else he was quite familiar with. Reno sighed and turned around, hoping with all abandon that his hunch was correct.

The ring was about the size and width of a penthouse suite, except instead of fancy carpeting and a mini bar, blood and broken glass littered the dirt floor, and a thick pillar covered with red-stained barbed wire stood in the middle of the cage. The sound of vicious barking drew his attention to the far right where he saw a smaller cage full of blood-thirsty Guard Hounds trying to bite and claw their way through to get to him.

A furious voice spattering innumerable obscenities caught his ear from the opposite end of the arena, where there was another gate and outer alleyway identical to the one he just came from. "I told you, I didn't do it!" he claimed with livid fervor as he struggled to break his arms free from the two masked men's grip.

The gate was opened and they shoved the bald man to the dirt floor. "Shut up!" one of them commanded before locking the gate.

"You guys are dead meat as soon as I break outta here!" the man roared as he threw himself at the chain link gate. "Ya hear me?!" After he eventually figured out that throwing a tantrum wouldn't get him any further, he swore under his breath and finally turned to face Reno.

"What the hell…?" the red-haired Turk mumbled, completely stunned that he was now looking at Rude. Or at least, he was almost sure that it was Rude. The bald man he stared at was clad in dirty, black city garments that had obviously seen better days, and there were no sunglasses or any of his characteristic ear piercings in sight. Was this man some random thug off the mean streets of post-Meteorfall Midgar who merely bared a striking resemblance to his partner for life, or was this really Rude in some sort of disguise? _I think I'm just going crazy with desperation…_

"_Ladies and gentlemen!" _an enthusiastic voice crackled over an unseen PA system, _"We hope you enjoyed tonight's eight-way, no holds-barred battle royal! Congratulations once again to the undefeated champion, Jackie the Jackal, on her fifth straight victory in the ring!"_

"_Yeah," _chimed in the more down-to-earth co-announcer with a gruff countryside accent, _"Still can't believe how she managed to get that pipe through both Rookweed and that sod from North Corel in the end there!"_

"_You said it, Mad-dog, my boy, she's definitely one of the best competitors ever to compete in this competition. A brutal display of violently gored mayhem, no mercy at all!"_

_"They're not supposed to show mercy."_

"_Well yeah, but in any case, it was a truly a feat that will be remembered for all time! Or as long as there are people left to, er, remember it."_

"_Yup, it was pretty impressive."_

"_And now for tonight's final exhibition! Ladies and gentlemen, we have a special treat for you tonight… in the left corner, we have a truly despicable menace to our fair society, and may we be honored for having taken him off the streets. He was caught mere hours ago staging a violent hold up of Barker's Bar on the east side. He was only apprehended by our brave boys in green after he was found desecrating the broken, beaten corpses of two local housewives that worked at the pub."_

"_Hell, man, have you no scruples?"_

"That's a goddamn lie!" the man shouted in defense, his voice drowned out by the crowd's thunderous jeers and boos. He was pelted with garbage from the stands, the trash falling in from the open top of the cage.

"_Enough about this dastardly devil. On the other corner, we've got quite a surprise for you folks. Red here was shot down from a rather expensive helicopter, but that's not all… the helicopter had all the markings of the dreaded ShinRa, Inc.!" _At that, all hell broke loose in the stands as the spectators erupted into a display of hatred and malice.

"_Could he have had a hand in the massacres pandemonium that gripped Junon yesterday afternoon? Sounds like he's part of a shady lot trying to get old ShinRa back into power, bad form!" _More angry jeers from the stands as many bets were taken.

"_So who would you put your Gil on, Mad-dog?"_

"_Well, by the looks of both competitors, I'm sticking with the old adage, 'always bet on black.'"_

"_Never know what could be up little Red's sleeve, though! He could be some sort of close-quarters specialist combatant spy trained to tear off your head in a single swipe, or something along those lines."_

"_Well, that is why we chose him as tonight's main exhibition."_

"_Enough with the talk, let's get to action! And a quick warning to our competitors, if for any reason you refuse to fight, start boring the spectators, or just plain take too long to finish each other off… well, let's just say that that's what those hounds in the corner are there for, and mind you, they haven't eaten in three days, heh-heh."_

"Well, that's pleasant news." Reno turned to his opponent and carefully examined the taller, angry man. "Hey, you look familiar," he started, deciding to be as vague as possible to test his theory. "Have I seen you somewhere before?"

"Shut up, carrot top. Let's just get this over with." He raised his gloved fists in a threatening modus and began a slow approach.

_Either that is Rude, or I lost more than my consciousness in the crash… _Reno shook the thought off and raised his own fists in a defensive stance, preparing for the inevitable.

The bald man narrowed his brows and stepped up within hitting distance of the Turk, but paused momentarily. "C'mon Reno, let's give these guys a show."

Reno's eyes shot wide open. "…Wait, what—?" He flew back from the force of the punch's impact and landed flat on his behind. Reno groaned as he held his stinging nose, lifting himself back up to his feet as the excited crowd went wild. _Argh… well, at least I get it now. Duh. _

"_Ooh, that's the thing about blocking— you gotta do it for it to work!"_

"Get up, you twig-boy, horsed-faced freak! We aren't done yet, get up!"

"What did you call me?" Reno retorted, playing along with the ruse.

"You heard me, c'mon!"

"Bastard!" Reno charged at Rude and faked right, quickly following through with a hard left hook that staggered the masquerading Turk. He continued with a rapid combination of fluid kicks and punches, which Rude successfully either blocked or dodged. The two put up a stunning display of vicious strikes and artful dodges that served more towards cosmetic entertainment than any true effectiveness in injury-dealing.

"_Amazing! What a match!" _

"_These guys know how to throw a punch."_

The crowd's bloodlust intensified as Rude grabbed Reno in a side headlock and began kneeing him in the stomach. "Argh! Not so hard!"

"Sorry."

Reno then curled inwards and, with a little help from Rude in the form of a subtle push of his feet, threw Rude over and behind him.

"_Unbelievable!" _the enthusiastic announcer spat as the crowds cheered over the disguised Turk's fake writhing on the floor. _"Looks like Red there's stronger than he looks!"_

Reno charged and tackled Rude just as he stood back up. The two wrestled fiercely on the floor, performing and breaking out of all manners of various grapples and vice grips as the announcers continued their feverish commentary. The audience became so enthralled by the bout that a diverse assortment of blunt weaponry started being thrown from the open top of the cage or slipped through the chain links. A makeshift shank narrowly missed Reno and landed on the dirt right beside him. After taking another one of his compatriot's punches, he reached for it just as Rude grabbed a lead pipe being offered to him from somebody through the fence.

Reno rolled backwards onto his feet and brandished the blade towards Rude, but it was precisely smacked out of his hand and careened behind him towards the corner of the ring.

The two looked back at it, and by chance, caught a weakness in the chain link fence. The two locked eyes and gave each other the slightest of acknowledgements, then Reno backed up towards said corner as if trying to avoid his armed opponent out of fear.

"I'm gonna kill you!" Rude roared as he charged at top speed.

Reno froze, briefly calculating how he would perform such a risky maneuver, then at the last second, he fell back and grabbed Rude by the shoulders and used the momentum of the fall and the push of his feet to throw the now upside-down Rude right through the fence with enough force to break on through to the other side.

The audience in that corner retreated out of what they perceived to be harm's way as Reno awkwardly clambered over the low wall and pounced upon Rude as he set himself back to a right side up position. The fence below them rattled while the two attacked each other over it, and the spectators all ran as close as they could to form a circle around the new area of conflict for a better look, their fists pumping in the air and their shouts cheering for more.

Rude weighted himself down atop Reno and locked his hands around his neck in what looked like a strangle with fatal intentions. The red-haired Turk played along and struggled to rip Rude's hands out from the convincing death grip, his strained face of fear complimenting the spectacle. At that moment, Reno glanced behind Rude's form to see that the two masked thugs from earlier joined the crowd to see the sight. They stood in the ring at the other end of the broken opening, their firearms strapped behind their backs while they playfully smacked each other and pointed in delight.

Reno looked back up to Rude, making sure he would be listening to the plan he was about to suggest. "Scissor Maneuver on you," he choked out in-between gasps for air, "Six o'clock."

Rude gave a slight nod and allowed Reno to break free from the hold by punching him in in the kidney with what looked like a shattering counterblow. Reno immediately pushed him off with an uppercut and spun the both of them around in a hundred-eighty degree turn so that Rude was now on the bottom. Suddenly, Reno bent down and got hold of Rude's foot, then hoisted him over his shoulder as hard as his exhausted body could do so. The dumbfounded target had no time to react to what was happening so quickly. He found himself on the receiving end of one of Rude's devastating mid-air punches and fell to the floor, only to be knocked out of consciousness with more strikes to his face.

The other thug who's balaclava was rolled halfway up swore up a storm as he attempted to ready his double-barreled shotgun, but dropped both his cigarette and his firearm to the floor as a bottle thrown from behind hit him hard in the back of the head. The tinier Reno then vaulted onto his back and got him in a headlock. He tried to throw the red-haired Turk off of him with reckless abandon, desperately ramming the two of them against the unbroken part of the fence, all while the bewildered onlookers cried out in muddled confusion.

Reno screeched as he jumped off his adversary's back to avoid being smashed into the barb wired pillar in the center of the ring. He was then punched across the cheek by a right hook and collapsed to the floor near the fence's broken opening. The half-masked man pounced on top of him and began to rain down a desperate barrage of fists and elbows, an action obviously panicked as he could have just easily grabbed his shotgun instead.

Reno tried to fight back, but was already so exhausted by the mock fight that his jabs had half the effect. He glanced beside him and grabbed the nearest thing he could use to defend himself, and ended up burning the man's cheek with his own cigarette. His howl of pain gave Reno the second he needed to regain the upper hand, wherein he then shoved his opponent off, picked up a nearby crowbar, and knocked him hard across the temple. He fell through opening in the fence and crumpled down on the other side, out cold.

Reno sighed as he briefly patted the dust from his shirt. "And that's why smoking can get you killed."

He then turned around just in time to see Rude's opponent get shot in the back by the female thug at the gate he initially entered from. Reno sighed in relief at the sight, but then flinched in shock when she pointed the gun at him. She fired with little hesitation, and Reno ducked down only to see a masked thug fall limply beside him from behind, the large combat knife still gripped in his lifeless hand. She had just saved his life.

By now, the stands had emptied and the last of the spectators had fled outside the main double doors leading out to the dimly lit street. They ran passed several of Reno's Edge friends who meandered in with their rifles pointed up in the air, commanding for the people to clear the building. As things finally settled down, with nothing but the barking of the caged up Guard Hounds, Madison and the other captives walked into the arena from the first alleyway with more Turks and their allies from Edge who went undercover as indicated by the green clothes they had stolen.

The group huddled closer together, all finding their own places to stand around and trying to see if everyone was accounted for. With the most luck possible, all twenty-four of them were present thanks to the flying expertise of the Turk pilots. Madison whistled at Reno to get his attention and threw him his suit jacket and goggles which she found being worn by one of the thugs.

"Finally," Reno sighed after catching his goggles, then bent down to catch his breath.

"Damn, Reno," Rude coughed while wiping some blood from his lip, "You used to pull back your punches."

"Yeah, well… 'Twig-boy, horse-faced freak?' What was up with that?"

"Can't imagine where that one came from," Elena spoke up as she pulled her mask off, her voice rife with sarcasm. The burly man next to her took off his balaclava, as well, revealing himself to be Lorenzo, the fist-fighting brute that rappelled down with Cid to help out in the chaotic battle on Junon's streets.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever."

"So what's the plan now?" somebody inquired.

"We've got a mission to do," came the answer from Rude, who was reattaching his extensive array of earrings which he had taken off prior to the elaborate subterfuge for safety reasons.

Lorenzo checked his wristwatch. "It's just passed one o'clock. If we hurry, we can get back on track."

Reno grunted, getting everyone's attention. "Hey, wait just a minute! Who the hell are these guys? I want some answers!"

"Umm…" Madison drawled awkwardly while looking around at the several lifeless bodies of masked men littered about. "I think we might have killed them all…"

"Oh, that's just great. Dead suspects don't talk. You didn't leave any of them alive? We could have found out something big, y'know. They couldn't have had all those high-tech missile systems for nothing and… wait! That guy I was fighting with!" Reno headed over to the spot through the broken fence. "I knocked him out!" He looked over the low wall expectantly, but cursed out loud as he saw the spot empty.

"Where are you going?" Elena asked as the red-haired Turk made a mad dash for the main double doors. "Reno, we've got a job to do!"

"Reno!"

He skidded to a stop outside the doors and looked down both ends of the dirty, poorly-lit street. There were several panicked people running about, but a certain shape in the distance caught his eye, running in a slow and clumsy manner as if they had just recovered from unconsciousness.

"There he goes!" he proclaimed back to his comrades. "Elena, Rude, come with me!"

The two Turks took after him without hesitation and together they sprinted into the chase down the dirt sidewalk. The lone survivor took a glance over his shoulder and saw the three Turks quickly closing the distance, then ducked into an unseen alleyway to his side. Within seconds, the trio caught up to the alley's mouth to see him exiting out the other end, still sluggish and lethargic in manner. They ran down to the other end to find a huge, empty urban clearing where they could make out the outline of their only lead making a bid for the only other building in the immediate area; a massive, ominously imposing structure in the distance.

As they continued the chase, Elena put a hand to her ear and spoke into her headset. "We're in pursuit of the target and he's heading for the Mako reactor."

"_That's perfect," _Madison replied, _"That's the Sector 3 reactor and there's only one way in and one way out, so you've got him cornered, unless he's quick enough to get to the motor pools on the upper tiers. If you move now, you can catch him and shut down the reactor at the same time while we take care of the other ones. Just keep your eyes peeled, it could be a set up."_

"Understood. Out."

--

The trio walked through the front entrance with a cautious haste, their senses heightened for any sign of danger. Without a word, Elena handed Reno her backup pistol before she maneuvered to the right side of the machine-filled antechamber with her stolen automatic rifle pointed forward. Rude cut right and Reno went straight down the middle, his eyes scanning the many catwalks above for their target.

They were in the main reactor edifice in the middle of the whole compound, the cylinder construction with the roofless ceiling opening up to a blank, nightly gloom. The entire structure was very much alive, all thanks to the efforts of Neo-ShinRa. The many lights still intact enough to function illuminated the building with a sparsely adequate glow, and the ambient hum of thousands of electronic systems and pumping machinery shattered the midnight silence. Much of the area was bathed in darkness, however, so the three Turks supplemented their search with flashlights.

"How did you guys manage to avoid getting captured?" Reno queried in a low voice as they regrouped at the other end of the foyer, readying to move on to the middle concourse.

"After the crash," Elena began as she peaked through the doorway and flanked to the right of the large open room, "Rude and I were the only ones still conscious. They were closing in fast so we had to leave the rest of you in the helicopter while we regrouped with the few that made it from Scud's team."

"Echo Three managed to flee the combat zone, so we met up with them, followed you guys to that fight club in Sector 3, and infiltrated their ranks to get you guys out," Rude finished as he scoured the left side of the concourse, which was too obstructed anyways by a lot of uncleared rubble and broken machinery.

Reno blinked. "That's it?"

"Yup. Wasn't much to it, actually."

"Well, that's a little uninteresting."

"Hey, it worked, didn't it?" A loud tap sounded and Elena spun around, her rifle pointed. The noise appeared to have come from behind a lone cubicle in the corner of the room. Reno silently ordered for Rude to approach the location with Elena while he took the long route around a row of computer mainframes to come up from behind.

Elena and Rude crept up to the cubicle and quickly checked in to see an empty, ruined workstation. They then prepared to peak around the rear, Rude standing behind Elena, and her kneeling down with her side against the outer wall of the work booth. They traded a quick glance, then swiftly stepped out with their firearms at the ready. All they saw was Reno at the other end. With a shrug, Reno motioned his head for them to move onto the next floor.

They made it to the second floor and slinked down the wide, steel-grating catwalk while observing their entire surroundings.

Before they even made it halfway, Elena suddenly pointed up at a figure on the catwalk above them. "There he is!" The man cursed and broke out from his hiding spot.

Reno took aim, even though it would do no good with the openings of the floor being too small. "Stop or I'll shoot!"

"Kiss my ass, suit monkey!" his voice echoed as he ran for the main circular stairwell that would lead him all the way up to the highest tier.

"What the hell's with all the 'suit monkey' lately? It's not even clever!" Reno then looked up tiredly at the very tall stairwell. It looked to be a long and monotonous climb, an experience too dizzying for the red-haired Turk. "I'm not climbing that," Reno complained with a disgusted scoff, trying in vain to hide how lazy he was feeling. "Er, you guys go and I'll stay and secure the first floor, y'know, make sure he doesn't… like, double-back or anything."

"Or," Rude interjected as he pointed his flashlight towards a completely pitch black area behind them, "We could use the elevator." Rude pressed the button and the doors immediately opened. They all stepped in and he pushed 'up.'

The enclosed elevator then began to ascend, but it was pretty slow-going. A stark contrast to the rest of the ruined building, the lift was surprisingly intact, well-lit, and even had some easy-listening music playing from the speaker. The three Turks stood facing the double doors in an instinctually professional form, waiting patiently as the number on the monitor sluggishly rose to the highest level. Just passing the fourth floor, they knew it would be quite awhile before they reached level fifteen.

Reno stood in the middle with his partners on either side. They really didn't have anything to say, so they simply endured the awkward silence and absentmindedly listened to the soft elevator music. The song faded prematurely and moved on to the next track. The five-note intro was unmistakable; an instrumental rendition of an old, annoyingly catchy classic that they all grew up with, a song that just about everybody on the Planet had heard at least a few times at some point in their life. Towards the end of the first verse, Reno couldn't help but bob his head from side to side at the endless five-note tune of the sunshine pop song. It wasn't long before he gave into the urge to gently sing along with the harp polyphonic.

"…down the streets of the city, smiling at everybody she sees? Who's reaching out to capture a moment? Everyone knows it's Windy."

For no reason, his two compatriots eventually decided to quietly join in. "And Windy has stormy eyes, that flash at the sound of lies. And Windy has wings to fly, above the clouds, above the clouds."

The trio then proceeded to hum the 'bah-bah' chorus.

--

The exhausted thug sprinted as fast as he could towards the end of the catwalk, his breath panting and his heart racing a mile a minute. He had torn off his balaclava long ago, and sweat now poured out his every orifice. He hoped with every fiber of his being that there would be something at the motor pool balcony he could use to escape, anything left intact enough to get him away from these three mysterious individuals who sent a never-ending chill down his spine. Just as he entered the first egress of the small antechamber that came before the motor pool, he felt a huge something catch him right in the throat. He was clotheslined to the floor and he writhed in the new pain, then looked up to see three faces staring down at him.

"Forgot about the elevator, didn't cha?" Reno taunted before gripping him by the collar. "Listen, pal, I've had it up to _here _with your bullshit, okay! Tell me who you are, who you work for, and whatever else I wanna know before I blow your brains out all over the walls!"

The gun held to the side of his head was all that was needed to break him. "Okay, okay, just don't shoot me!"

Reno spun the man around and quickly bound his hands with plastic handcuffs. The three Turks and their prisoner got back in the elevator, exited out to the middle floor where the main reactor controls were located, where Rude then got behind the keyboard as Reno proceeded with the impatient interrogation of their thug captive. Elena walked passed to stand beside Rude with the purpose of keeping watch. Elena sighed at Reno's demanding shouts and tried to drown it out with random thinking, but to no avail. She then turned to look up at Rude, who seemed to be quite serious about his assigned task.

"Hey, uh…" she started, a bit more clumsily than she wanted it to be, "Rude?" He gave her a quick glance to let her know he was listening, his face calm and questioning. It wasn't long, but the mere sight of his burnt sienna hues being so close to her own unsettled the fledgling young Turk for reasons she could only blame Madison for exacerbating. "Last night, you never finished telling me about what happened with you and Chelsea. You know, that AVALANCHE spy."

"Well, you _did _fall asleep."

"Yeah…"

"Maybe this isn't the best time," he stated blandly while returning his eyes to the small screen in front of him.

"Oh. Yeah, you're right." She returned to training her rifle towards the blank walls and kept her gaze forward, but the embarrassed rejection in her voice was quite definite.

Rude sighed inwardly, realizing how cold and piercing his statement was despite the fact that it was just a normal response of his. He felt the regret boiling as he typed away the last digits of the shut down code, though. It _was _his choice to go against his grain and open up to her last night, after all, albeit for a reason he couldn't remember. Maybe it had been to shatter the awkward silence between them, or perhaps just to get her mind off her injuries until she found the reserve to sleep. In any case, he had established a new frontier in their friendship, one that made it just plain rude and hurtful to shrug off a heart-to-heart opening like that.

He was well aware how Elena had desperately clung to him and Reno after ShinRa's downfall because she was scared and had no where else to go. As much as he hated to say it, she came to feel closer to him, looking up to him like the big brother she never had, but he didn't feel the same way. After a painful past, he just couldn't break his introverted nature for anybody besides his long-time friend, Reno. It went on for months like that, but last night in that room in the NMI hideout, he found his opinions drastically changed after they had shared stories of their life and upbringings, which weren't all that different.

"Elena," he started, deliberately waiting for eye contact, "I didn't mean it like that."

"I know, I know," she assured sheepishly with a nod before she turned away, returning her gaze forward. "Shouldn't you be working on shutting the reactor down?"

Suddenly, all the lights in the structure dimmed to their lowest setting, and the dying hum of thousands of machines echoed across the walls. "I'm already done."

She looked back and saw the words 'REACTOR SHUT DOWN SUCCESSFUL' flashing on the screen and chuckled. "Good job." With that, she returned to keeping her vigilant watch of the blank nothingness around them.

He frowned. "Hey, really, I didn't mean it like that." She slowly turned back to look up at him, giving him the push he needed to continue. "After all this is over… You know, after Neo-ShinRa gets their asses handed to 'em, let's go back to that bar in Edge. I'll buy you a drink, tell you everything."

The little Turk gave a wide smile and nodded brightly. "It's a date."

"Is that it?" they overhead Reno bark. "Is that it?!" They turned to see him feign a slap against the thug to make sure he was finished revealing everything he knew. He then turned the handcuffed prisoner on his belly and ordered him to stay put before walking over to Rude and Elena.

Rude raised his eyebrow. "So?"

"Well, our new friend here claims to be with some sort of two-bit, wannabe mafia that apparently runs the entire eastern third of Midgar. They're the biggest organization in the city with influences in every nook and cranny, and they even supported the anti-AVALANCHE movement, but never officially joined. Apparently, they never knew that anti-AVALANCHE was really Neo-ShinRa."

"What?" the thug queried.

"Shh! Big people are talking. I guess the people in Midgar are still confused by the whole anti-AVALANCHE and Neo-ShinRa thing. It's gonna take some time for everything to get cleared. Anywho, when Neo-ShinRa bugged out, he says that a few days later, they gave his gang all these new toys and said that they'd let 'em keep 'em if they promised to leave the reactors alone and if they used the missile batteries to shoot down a few 'difficult people' they were expecting to fly by Midgar tonight."

"In other words," Elena sighed, "Us."

"Yup."

"So they were expecting us? They knew we were coming?"

"Seems like it. He says there's no Neo-ShinRas around here, though, which does make sense 'cause the head honchos would want all their best troops back in Modeoheim to hide behind. I'm guessing they used our friend's gang here as cannon fodder, hoping they would take us out."

"But they used the concussion missiles instead of the lethal ones."

"Yup! It's their fault that we're still alive 'cause they got so cocksure they could capture us, just so they could slowly kill us off _and_ entertain their paying customers at the same time. They could've probably had us if they didn't get so greedy… but ha-ha, thank god for that, right?"

"No kidding," Rude agreed. He then lowered his brow as a realization came to mind. "Wait, so if Neo-ShinRa knew we were coming to shut down the Mako reactors in Midgar, they would know that we've sent guys to Costa del Sol."

Reno frowned slightly, knowing what he was getting at. "I'm sure your cousin's fine, Rude. Let me call Maddy, see if she heard anything from Questa. I need to get up to the motor pool, though, there's no signal in here for some reason."

Rude nodded with gratitude and Reno headed for the stairwell. He then turned to Elena just as she cursed under her breath.

"What?"

"If they know about us trying to shut down the reactors, then… We need to find a radio and raise the Highwind. They're walking right into a trap."

* * *

**Author's Note: Yup, a little bit of "personal reflection to symbolically official-ize the Turk's redemption" as my own way of explaining their later appearance as friends of AVALANCHE in FFVII: Advent Children. :P**

**I'm back, and I've discovered a newfound interest in FF7 to continue on with BP2. I should really hammer it on now because I'm planning on seeing a Marine recruiter this coming August (next month), so I'll finish up with whatever I can cause I may not have the time afterwards. Anything left unfinished will have to be temporarily settled with a synopsis until I can actually find the time to later complete the story the way it should be, and that's including the On the Way to a Smile novella I planned as a side story after the Beyond Paradise saga is concluded. Not the way I'd prefer to do it, but I put a lot of hard work and ungodly amounts of thinking into coming up with the plot which makes me feel like this story just has to be told either way. In any case, wish me luck. I'm gonna need it. I'm like, 15 paragraphs into the next installment, though that was something I left untouched since my previous addition last March, so it might take a little longer for reworking purposes in light of the events taking part in this chapter. Anyways, keep a look out for Chapter 34: Hark, the Herald Demon's Scream.**


	24. Hark, the Herald Demon's Scream

**Beyond Paradise II**

_Disclaimer: I do not own Yuffie, Vincent, or anything/anybody else in this fiction, they belong to Square Enix. I also don't own previously established fictitious characters such as Moira, Zeb, or Jethro. They were created by the original fan fic's author, tolerant. Though, I DO claim a childish, unpatented ownership over my original/semi-original characters--Cleon, Questa, Max, Rakk, and Havern Glaire. And the recurring smoking guard. He's tiiight. This is not an "official" sequel by the original author, more like a tribute by me since the original has been discontinued, unfortunately. I am not affiliated with tolerant in any way, shape, or form (other than being a fan, of course)._

**Author's Note: Well, this one took a lot of research to do, particularly through everything I could find about Yuffie's biography; videos, websites, creator interviews, etc. **

**Author's Disclaimer: This chapter may be intense for some.**

* * *

_Say your prayers, little one  
__Don't forget, my son  
__To include everyone  
__I tuck you in, warm within  
__Keep you free from sin  
__Till the sandman, he comes_

_Sleep with one eye open  
__Gripping your pillow tight  
__Exit light  
__Enter night  
__Take my hand  
__We're off to never-never land _

_Enter Sandman  
__--James Hetfield_

_- _**Chapter 34: Hark, the Herald Demon's Scream**

"What is this, a joke?"

Havern Glaire stomped through the south concourse towards the opposite corridor that would lead to the mess hall. The guards and soldiers she passed kept their distance and saluted as perfectly as they could as she trudged by, knowing better than to further anger their short-tempered, already irritated general. She had spent the last hour searching every inch of the underground base for any sign of Zeb Mahonney; his input was required for coordination of the impending enemy infiltration that was sure to happen any day now. So far, she had been redirected from one end of the Modeoheim headquarters to the other in the hunt for her associate who had gone absent since their arrival and could now be officially considered in dereliction of duty.

_The world's most expensive alarm system and yet not one speaker to be found, _she thought to herself, making a mental note to rework the entire organization once AVALANCHE and the Turks were out of the picture. _What kind of damned fool was allowed to design this whole— _"You there!" She approached a trio of men taking their break outside the mess hall's double doors and they snapped to attention. "Where is Zeb Mahonney?" They traded a quick, nervous glance at one another.

"We don't know, ma'am," the middle one spoke up, his disposition reeking of a rank uneasiness that melted under the intense gaze of the stormy eyed former SOLDIER. "We haven't seen him." She glared at such incompetence, but there was nothing she could do. These three were part of Zeb's personal escorts, so they were technically out of her jurisdiction and exempt to the order she gave the rest of the base's personnel to locate the missing Mahonney.

"Ma'am!" a voice behind her suddenly interrupted. She turned to face the guard and motioned for him to continue. "I last saw him just a few minutes ago heading towards his office further down this hall, ma'am!"

"And you didn't bother to get him yourself?"

"U-uh," he stammered, realizing his error, "I-I thought it would have been… well, to find you first and—""Never mind," she grumbled. "Carry on." She continued down the hall, shaking her head and murmuring something about being surrounded by idiots. She rounded the corner and stopped outside a door with Mahonney's name stamped on the adjacent wall plaque. She knocked briskly on the door. "Mr. Mahonney?" No answer. "Mr. Mahonney," she repeated with another knock. She waited twice as long this time for some sort of response, but none came.

The door of the small office gave an annoying, intrusive screech as it creeped open. A woman's piercing, steely hues peaked through the crack in the ingress, spying into the room to see if it's owner—or anybody else, for that matter—was anywhere in sight. Once contempt, the dainty figure of General Havern Glaire quickly slipped into Zebadiah

Mahonney's office with a quiet close of the door behind her. She immediately approached the large desk near the back of the room, opened a drawer, and ruffled through the rebel leader's many documents.

After some time, she looked over an envelope sealed with a suspiciously indiscriminate label of the utmost classification. She began a systematic read-through of the several pages that were paper-clipped together. Suddenly, there was what sounded like a faint, distant echo of a disembodied twitter behind her. She quickly swerved around to see a blank wall. She gave the rest of the room a swift scan, but saw nothing out of the ordinary, so she returned to her analysis of the classified documents, which she then realized from the hand-written print was actually a personal diary belonging to none other than Zeb.

Her eyes suddenly widened and an insidious smirk crossed her lips. "I knew it…"

--

Yuffie looked at the alarm clock on the desk beside her to see that it was one-twenty in the morning. In a little over a half hour, they would start off on the fifteen mile trek through the raging cold of midnight winter towards their final destination, the Neo-ShinRa headquarters of Modeoheim. As she listened to the ambient creaking and typical groaning of an iron construct as big as the Highwind, she turned to her side, to her stomach, to her other side, then finally settled on her back. She had been tossing and turning under her covers since she had first crawled into bed, much to her frustration. No matter how much she wanted to, Yuffie just could not bring herself to slumber.

_Why the hell can't I get to sleep?! _Yuffie echoed in her mind as she glared at the empty, metallic ceiling above. With a heavy, exasperated sigh, she looked over towards the adjacent bed at Tifa, who looked sound asleep. _How the heck did you knock out so fast, boobs?! What makes you so special…? _Unable to bury herself in her dreams, Yuffie slowly began to cloud her mind with reminiscing memories.

The events leading up to AVALANCHE's final showdown at the Northern Crater flashed before her eyes, the idle weeks with her newfound friends speeding through her head. The playful chides she had given to Cid and Barret, her beloved conversations with Tifa and Aerith, the fun times and jokes she shared with Cait Sith, and the teasing goads she pushed onto the auburn-haired quadruped, Nanaki. One of the most prominent recollections was definitely her visit with the crew to the Gold Saucer amusement park. That night in the park was an exciting one, and she had literally run from one area of the neon-lit expanse to the other, busying herself with the many games, rides, and a quick pick-pocket here and there. It was early in the morning before she had tired herself out and returned to her room, totally exhausted.

_Why couldn't I be that tired now…? _she mused with a light grumble.

She folded her arms behind her head and crossed one leg over the other, lazily rocking her foot up and down. She thought back to the reflection she underwent as she passed by the closed room of the blonde leader of AVALANCHE on her way back to her own bed. In retrospect, she could not believe that she actually considered knocking on his door to ask Cloud if he would want to hang out with her. Her often uncouth, raucous personality and criminally chaotic lifestyle had always put her on the path to live a solitary existence. Indulging more in the forceful acquirement of as much Materia as possible to restore the former glory of her defeated homeland, she had never really taken in the interests of dating or even much of speculative attractions, for that matter. Such a tomboyish regime had actually led her to question her own sexuality on more than one occasion during the quieter times of camping alone on the fields as she gazed up at the loneliness of space.

Once spending a much more social standard amongst her friends of AVALANCHE, she questioned herself so much that during the walk-by of Cloud's door the night at the Gold Saucer, she contemplated a test of the utmost curiosity. She would have spent an intimate night with the leader of AVALANCHE and gauge her feelings on the matter. As much as her longings to settle her personal issues compelled her to go on some sort of date for the first time in her life, she ultimately decided against it for a myriad of reasons, but that did not stop her from pondering what could have been later on.

_I mean… well, I'm pretty sure I always thought he was kinda cute. That's like, normal, right? It's not like I wanted to get with him, anyway. He's as depressing as Vinnie. All I wanted to do was hang out, and see what it would be like to kiss Vincent on the cheek or— _

She stopped her thought mid-word and widened her eyes in shock.

_Wait, what the hell did I just say?! Did I just say 'Vincent'?! I meant Cloud… I'm definitely sure I meant Cloud! Yeah, that's totally it. Oh my gawd, that's totally it, right? Eww, grossness! I mean, Vinnie and I are just… I do consider him like as a close companion or whatever, right? Right. Even if his hermit ass doesn't think of me the same way… oh gawd, but I hope he at least thinks of me the same way. I mean, I'm not such a bad person at all… I'm easy to get along with! I'm Yuffie Kisaragi, the Single White Rose of Wutai! Master ninja, master thief, master of disguises and master of deception. Oh yeah, a babe like me got it all! Who wouldn't like me?! Ha! Vincent's totally lucky to have me as his partner in crime. I'm the only one in the whole world that can keep up with him. And, the only one that can put up with his rampant depressiveness… stupid vampire._

_I don't like him. I can't like him. We're total opposites on every conceivable level. Heck, look how our working relationship started in the first place! He was so depressing, so aloof… always trying to be like, 'hey, lookit me, I'm Mr. Superhuman Experiment Guy and I can kick anybody's ass in the world without even breaking a sweat! I'm so dark and enigmatic and quiet and serious and I got no sense of humor and I'm an anti-socialite loner… hell, I'm everything Yuffie Kisaragi hates and the sole purpose of my existence was that I was put here on this planet to annoy the living crap outta her without even saying a word ninety-nine percent of the time!' _

Yuffie played off the thought with a laugh at her own joke in her head, then laid there, still trying even harder to force herself to sleep. She slowly closed her eyes and crossed her arms over her face, trying as much as possible to blank her mind. Inevitably, her thoughts seeped through her mental barriers and drifted towards the Cerberus. After hearing Vincent's melancholy reminiscence of his tragic past, and the subsequent short exchange she shared with the marksman where she tried in vain to convince him that his negatively pessimistic perceptions of himself were anything but true, she had stayed in his room, bored and at a loss for what else to do, until they were ordered by Cid to get some sleep before they all set out for the hike towards Modeoheim. She had bade farewell to her gun-toting friend and returned to her own room to see Tifa already disrobing in preparation for bed.

Before she herself crawled onto her mattress, she realized she had forgotten something, and reached under her bed to pull out her bag. She remembered how she had ruffled through her luggage and pulled out a hastily-wrapped paper package and quickly ran back to outside Vincent's door. She unwrapped the package and took one last look at the elegant Cerberus revolver, then at the door that was the only thing standing between her and the brooding, mysterious enigma, Vincent Valentine. For some reason, she was unable to physically give the gift to him herself, so without hesitation, she placed it at the foot of the ingress and chaotically knocked on the door in a frenzied cadence before retreating back for her room. She had ducked through her doorway just in time to hear Vincent creak open his from halfway down the hall. She sheepishly peaked her head from her own doorway and peered down the corridor to see the almost priceless look on Vincent's face, which was a mix of restrained confusion, surprise, and just the most obscure hint of what she liked to think was some form of delectation.

She held her breath as he bent down and examined the beautiful firearm he had not seen since their visit to that weapon's shop. He had raised his head and locked eyes with the little ninja, who just widened her mouth into a huge, innocent grin before she disappeared from sight, slamming her door shut before jumping right on top of her bed.

_He better put that thing to good use! _she thought back in the current moment, not realizing that the same huge grin was now permeated across her face. _I spent forever trying to find it in that ruined weapons shop! Too bad about the shopkeeper, though…_

Mr. Painfully Obvious Comb-Over had been buried in half a ton of rubble from the crash of Elena's helicopter. Tifa and Yuffie entered the shop to try and salvage a new shuriken to use for the battle on Junon's street, and came across him.

"_Please, they're in Edge," _she remembered back to the dying man's final words. _"I need her to see this, to let them both know how sorry I am. Please…" _That was his last breath. He had confessed to them that his wife divorced him after finding out about his mistress, then she took their only daughter and moved to the newly constructed city of Edge. He wanted to relocate his business to Kalm in the hopes of one day making amends with his estranged family, a process he knew would be long and arduous. The note would have been the first step, but with his death, it would now be the only one. He said he spent weeks trying to find the right words, and even longer getting them onto paper. His ultimate wish was to now have the note delivered to them, and Tifa tearfully obliged.

Yuffie saw something very different in Tifa after that. The martial artist always wanted to put an end to the fighting, but the shopkeeper's demise seemed to trigger a sleeping demon within. She looked like a heroine who wanted to just stop the killing, to stop the bloodshed of innocents and the needless collateral damage, whatever the cost. Yuffie, on the other hand, was thankful that she could now take the Cerberus instead of trying to find a way to steal it like she originally planned. Heartless, she chastised herself in hindsight, but not far from the truth.

She continued her thoughts and lazily changed her gaze to the far wall ahead of her. _Well, that made everything easier. I should be worried about Tifa, though… she didn't even know the guy, but she took his death pretty hard. It's…_ Through the dark, she saw the faint sight of the closet, which was open. _Wait, I closed that, didn't I? _Amidst the blackness of the closet, an abnormality. There was something else there. Something white. She focused her eyes through the shadows, trying to decipher the shape. It was round, slightly oval, pale as the moon; a color noticeable even with the low light. It was suspended from the floor, hung from the rack level and wasn't moving. _What the hell is that? _

After a few more moments of studying it, she could swear she was staring at a face. It was looking at her. Silent, piercing, and observing, it's eyes—or whatever was where it's eyes were supposed to be— watched her quietly. Yuffie's breath caught in her throat and her racing heart dropped to the deepest pit of her stomach. _It can't be a face,_ she kept telling herself.

It began to grow in size. Not because it was expanding in width, but because it was getting closer. Slowly and surely, it was approaching her with the most minimalist of movements. The eyes were strained wide, she could see, with pupils as blackened as the empty expression on it's line-thin lips. It didn't speak, it didn't breath, it didn't make a sound or any discernable movement whatsoever besides it's steady advance.

_Why isn't it setting off the motion sensors?! _she managed to formulate amidst her hyperventilation. She raised her arms and frantically waved them around in the hopes of triggering the ear-splitting alarm that would save her from the silent terror, never once taking her eyes off of the face.

It suddenly jerked forward. Yuffie screeched and jumped up to her feet on the bed, quickly backing up to the wall behind her. Tifa shot up from her mattress, her startled gasp supplementing the broken silence. "Yuffie, what's wrong—?" She then screamed to the top of her lungs at the black mass hovering before the princess. It took one glance at the martial artist and disappeared in a wispy smoke. Tifa quickly scanned the dark room, trying to calm her panting, then a survivalist instinct took over that drove her to grab the little ninja and push them towards the door to escape the room.

They threw the door open, only to be met with the freezing caress of a thick, shrieking fog. They poked their heads out into the corridor and peeped down both directions, but couldn't make anything out. The two young women traded a look before hesitantly stepping out into the hallway and were immediately engulfed by the swirling mists. Holding one another close, the two nervous nymphs slowly wandered down the hall, eyes scanning for any dangers as their bare feet tiptoed along the cold steel floor, guiding them through the haze.

The pair froze. A bloodcurdling scream echoed from just further down the hall, ricocheting from wall to wall and filling the wet air with a dreadful trepidation. They strained their ears to hear through the tempest squall, trying hard to decipher what was wind and what was everything else. It wasn't long before they could make out the sickening crunch of what sounded like something grinding on something soft. Suddenly, an unseen force pushed the duo apart with such intensity that they found themselves swept off their feet. They slammed on opposite walls and slid down to land on their behinds. Yuffie grunted in pain, then opened her chocolate hues to see Tifa barring her teeth while struggling to stand. A ghastly green phantasm shot from the fog and wrapped itself around Tifa, enveloping every inch of her body. The shapeless, transparent manifestation pulled her to the floor and dragged her down on her back towards the other end of the hallway.

"Yuffie!" Tifa yelled as she tried to break herself free in a frenzied amalgamation of kicks and scratches, but to no avail. Every ghostly appendage that she managed to tear off was replaced tenfold. "Yuffie, run! RUN!" The phantasm paused, then after a slight jolt, it pulled her away at a hundred times the previous speed. Tifa disappeared into the mists, her final cry for Yuffie to flee fading away into obscurity.

"Tifa!" Yuffie chased after to save her friend, but the same invisible force threw her back over many yards. She rose to her feet and tried again and again and again, only to have the same exact phenomenon happen each time. Hissing into her teeth from the pain that coursed through her veins, she pulled herself up into a seated position and scanned the fog ahead of her for any sign of the raven-haired bartender. Seconds that felt like hours raced by with no reprieve in sight. Each moment that passed knocked an entire peg off the pedestal of Yuffie's sanity until the little ninja finally broke down, her hands cuffing the sides of her head in frustration as tears streamed down her face. She fought back the sobs that eked out at the helpless situation, cursing at the unfairness of whatever was going, repeating to herself that none of this was happening and wishing for it all to come to an end.

There was a flash of light from somewhere down the hall, and the sound of a gun; Vincent's gun, the Cerberus. The weapon discharged three more times, then there was nothing to hear but the indoor storm's otherworldly moan. Yuffie lowered her hands and intently watched the blinding haze before her, hoping with all abandon that soon, her knight in shining red armor would heroically emerge from the mists, walking down the hall in his typical Vincent fashion with a smoking Cerberus in one hand and a rescued Tifa held in the other. He would come and deliver salvation from the terrible malevolence that was the mysterious gray fog's ethereal blanket of cynically overpowering supremacy. Instead, a door a little down and to the left slowly creaked open. She remembered it was the ingress to Cid's room, but that little gut instinct way down in the deepest pit of her stomach knew all too well that it wasn't the sky captain coming to her rescue.

Yuffie held her breath as a hulking mass of smoldering, decomposing muscle inched out through the doorway. Viscously inky smoke oozed out of it's every orifice, looking as if it had just stepped out of the ferocious conflagrations of Hell itself with the singed flesh melting from it's disgusting frame only serving to reinforce such a sight. It gradually turned to stare at her with sunken, liquefied orbs, and mutilated tissue hung off around the area where it's lips should have been. With the mouth burned from it's face, it's rotted teeth gave the princess an eternal, black tooth grin. The stiff monstrosity with mountainous slopes for shoulders slowly marched forward towards the teenaged girl, it's outgrown toenails clinking off the metallic floor with every robotic step. It was frighteningly surreal how the sound could be heard despite the near-deafening wails of the surrounding mists. Yuffie was paralyzed by the clothless creature's coming onset—unable to move, unable to think, unable to scream, curse, or cry. She was at the hideous creature's ostensibly nonexistent mercy.

"_Yuffie." _She jumped at the unknown call. _"Yuffie, run."_ It was an indiscernible whisper that seemed to come from the unseen heavens above. Yuffie snapped to her senses, rose to her feet, and took off in the other direction leading to the engine room.

She passed an open doorway on her left side and stopped to peer in, searching for the room's occupants, desperate to find anybody that could help her in any way, shape, or form. Yuffie just wanted to see another living person at this point. Four beds laid there, two on either side of the crewmen's quarters. The covers on each bed were thrown off in complete disarray and a gelatinous trail of blood led from the foot of the nearest mattress, out the door, and further down the foggy hall in the direction she was fleeing.

"_Don't stop, Yuffie," _it ordered again. The voice put her back in a state of mind clear enough to realize the steady clinking drawing near. She glanced back to see that the infernal behemoth was still on her tail—still advancing in it's sluggish, monotone manner—so she ran, side by side with the trail of human blood.

Rushing frantically through the haze, she stopped dead in her tracks at where the trail of blood ended and watched in horror as she came across one of the Highwind's crew members being violently pulled into a wall ventilation shaft. The lower half of his slaughtered body was all that could be seen. The poor man was being forcibly wrenched into the opening in an unspeakable manner best left unsaid. He was just a regular average Joe civilian; no gifted powers, no athletic reflexes, no specialized defense training or matching years' experience to speak of. He never stood a chance.

It was a gruesome scene, one that shouldn't have been possible, shouldn't have been so passionately vivid, a crime against nature that was too much to bear for anyone's eyes. It shouldn't have been happening, but it was. _"Hurry, Yuffie, hurry." _She rediscovered the will to carry on and soon found herself outside Cleon's room near the corner turn. The door was wide open, as well; the body of another helpless crew member laid slain atop the sheets with the Mage no where to be found. _"Don't stop now. Not here. You're almost there, you're almost safe."_

Yuffie glanced behind her to see the monstrosity that threatened her very existence raise its arms to grasp at the air between them before suddenly breaking into a beastly charge, the walls and ground practically shaking with every stomp it took. The way its back remained stiffly erect as it ran sent another chill down her quivering spine. She made a mad dash for the doorway of the engine room, but took one last look behind her just in time to see the creature turn the corner with an unexpected grace. It was so close now that, out of pure shock, she fell backwards due to tripping from the elevated step of the entryway and landed flat on her bottom. The last thing she saw of the creature was the bloodlust in its sunken eyes and the elongated claws that shot out from the tips of its fingers as the brute stampeded into the thick steel door she managed to kick closed at the last second.

A huge dent on the door's surface showed it's ugly head, followed immediately by more and more as the fiend from behind continued its bid to break through. Yuffie crawled backwards some ways until she remembered that getting up on her feet would be a more efficient getaway. She quickly did so, but stood frozen while staring at the door as it took more and more damage, incapable of any movement for reasons she couldn't explain. If this was it, it was only a matter of time now. But the Single White Rose of Wutai wasn't going to allow herself to go out like this. Yuffie summoned the strength to pull away from the scene, slowly taking baby steps back, each one just a little bit further than the last. She stepped on something. It surprised her at first, but she looked down on the ground to find a godsend.

It was Materia. She gasped and clasped the green orb tightly in her hand, almost unable to believe what she was now holding, and immediately sensed that it was a mastered Ultima Materia. Her breathing slowed with the new hope she clenched in her palm. She muttered a curse in her native Wutainese, raised the orb, and fired a huge wave of indescribable energy towards the door. It blasted effortlessly through the ingress and out the other end, taking the door—and the monstrosity behind it—to crater into the far wall. The haze parted just long enough for Yuffie to see the unmoving limbs of the creature sticking out from behind the singed door, both of them imbedded into the wall.

The young shinobi sighed in relief at the victory, thanking Leviathan with every fiber of her being for bestowing such a gift from the heavens. Sadly, it wasn't long before the reality of the situation returned. The fear blitzkrieged back with a vengeance, furiously pulsating her every artery with a drearily pessimistic misery of the utmost intensity. She loathed the feeling, but it overwhelmed her senses and drove her very soul to urge for somebody to come to her aid; just another living, breathing person would calm her enough to survive this whole ordeal, give her a desperately desired hope she felt she needed now more than ever. Where was everybody? Where were her friends? Was she really alone? The hatred flourished, and no matter how much she detested such an admittance, she just wanted to collapse to the floor and weep. As if things weren't bad enough, she caught the sound of rushing footsteps approaching rapidly from behind and the tenseness gripped her muscles yet again. It wasn't fair, she kept telling herself. With the Materia gripped tightly in both hands, she spun around with the orb clutched far out in front of her, unwillingly ready to kill or be killed.

Cleon ran straight passed her. Yuffie almost had a heart attack. She turned to catch him scurrying into the mists like a frightened deer, arms flailing randomly at his sides. He disappeared from sight before she could manage to get a word or even a thought in edgewise. Yuffie didn't know whether to laugh or to cry.

"_Look out!" _

She didn't remember when she twirled around, nor how she dodged the demonic swarm of what appeared to be thousands of tiny insects. She just knew she had fallen from the platform and landed ungracefully on her back onto the level below, just right beyond the entrance to the ship's chocobo stable. She stared back up, intentionally laying still to wait and see if the swarm would descend upon her, but they never came. They seemed to have continued their chase for the long haired Mage.

A new feeling permeated her senses. She thinned her eyes. She barred her teeth. She felt herself get angry. Yuffie Kisaragi was through being afraid. "I," Yuffie grunted as she painfully pulled herself back up, "Have. Had it. Up to _here_. With all of this _stupid _horror movie crap!" As if in response, a spidery series of clicks began crawling along the walls. She froze and perked her ears to listen for its every movement, trying to follow and predict the unseen foe's path. The fog was here in the engine room, as well, but no where near as thick as in the sleeping quarters. There were signs of battle; all around were claw marks and burn spots, but no corpses of man, beast, or other anywhere.

"I'm not afraid of you," she announced to the invisible hunter, eyes slowly studying her surroundings. "You hear me? You don't scare me." The clicking multiplied, as if there were two or three of them now. She inched backwards while listening intently to anticipate the safest route. "I'm not afraid," she repeated, keeping her calm as the trickle grew to a rainstorm. She stood her ground. "You don't scare me anymore, I'm not afraid!"

"Then we'll have to try harder, won't we, princess?" Yuffie jumped as the upside down figure grabbed her from her side. She dove out of it's grasp so it quickly climbed back up its chain to the ceiling. Sitting on her bottom, she stared up at the shadowy specter riding atop a swinging bladed pendulum above her. It was cackling like a mad man possessed, swinging to and fro, distracting her attention from the monsters emerging from all around the engine room.

A two-headed corpse lurched out from the chocobo stables, bull-like quadrupeds leaped down from the platform above, gigantic disembodied faces burst out from the air vents and hovered forebodingly in the distance, meaty skeletons with six arachnid legs climbed up from the machines below; All manner of creatures emerged from the metalwork and closed the gap, more and more by the second— Death Claws, Guard Hounds, Ying-Yangs, Zemzeletts, Scrutin Eyes; it seemed as if every creature Yuffie and AVALANCHE ever faced in the weeks leading up to Meteorfall were all here now to take their revenge, the shadowy Ghirofelgo above galvanizing its brethren with a lusting call to spill the blood of innocents.

"_Yuffie, behind you," _the ethereal voice said again as the double doors slid open behind her by unseen hands. _"Go now." _The little ninja dived into the board room, the one with a big sign above the entrance that read 'OPERATION.'

The doors slid shut and the creatures behind it began their incessant pounding. The coast seemed clear enough now, so she rose to her feet and squinted into the gloom. All the lamps were off, but there was a mysterious, eerie glow meekly illuminating the room so she could just make out the large desk surrounded by chairs.

"Hello?" she called out cautiously into the darkness. There was no reply. She waited a few more seconds and took a vigilant step forward. "Is there anybody—?"

"Oh, I'm so sorry!"

Yuffie just about screeched her lungs out at the sudden voice. The lights flicked on and she gasped at whom she was staring at. "Moira?!" Yuffie backed up against the wall as she eyed the unnervingly cheerful puppet floating atop the center of the table.

Purple lips pulled back into a wide grin as the female jester leaped down to take Yuffie's hands in her own, bells jingling merrily and body bouncing up and down as she spoke. "I can't believe how rude I was being, keeping you from clearly seeing. I didn't mean to give you that scare. Please forgive me, relax, and pull up a chair!"

Before she knew it, Yuffie found herself magnetically drawn to sit on the nearest seat. The joyful clown girl danced around her with glee, much to the little ninja's nervous confusion. "Whaddaya mean, you didn't mean to scare me? All these monsters…"

"No, silly! They're not with me. They're here on their _own_ little cleaning spree!"

"'Cleaning?' What are you talking about?"

"The fiends you've encountered belong to the dead, but I'm here, on the other hand, to _save _you instead! Come with me, princess, there's no time to waste! We're off to have fun in the most special place!"

_Again with those annoying rhymes… _"Moira, I don't need saving…" Yuffie murmured, ironic in that she actually did need saving. But she needed to be rescued from Moira. Though, it could be a death sentence if she added that last part out loud. Yuffie maintained a logically reserved stance, fearing she was at the jester girl's mercy and that a wrong choice of words could yield disastrous results. "I don't know what you're thinking, but beyond all those crazy monsters outside that door right now trying to get my severed head on a plate, I'm not in any trouble."

"Oh, but you are, you really are! At first I thought your behavior was quite bizarre, but they've opened up my eyes to the terrible truth, how your 'friends' take hostage of such an innocent youth!"

"Who told you that? They _are _my friends, Moira…"

"The ones in the great beyond, of course. Now, this group of misfits, you must divorce! We'll be so happy, we'll laugh, we'll play, because now your captors will finally pay!"

"Moira, leave them alone…"

The jester puppet frowned, not understanding. "Leave them alone? But… Why? They were holding you prisoner… And now we're here to rescue you!" she added while excitedly clapping her hands, but Yuffie cringed inwardly at how Moira had stopped rhyming, sensing that she was getting upset.

"What's happening, Moira? Tell me," she pleaded. "How did all this happen? Where did these things come from?" She was hoping she could find out how to stop everything.

"Come on, princess!" she giggled, still oblivious to Yuffie's true wishes. "I'll explain everything when we go home. Oh, we'll have so much fun together. There's so much to do, and all the time in Paradise to do it!"

Moira just wouldn't hear reason. "Moira, listen," Yuffie started with a voice appropriate for addressing a confused child, working up the courage despite the possible consequences, "I don't know what lies have been fed to you, but these people are my friends, and _your _'friends' are killing them… this has to stop." They both shot their eyes to the door. The pounding which they both forgot about had long stopped and was now back with a vengeance; so much that dents were beginning to form on the doors' metal surface, deeper and wider with each punishing blow. "Moira, I'm… I'm staying."

Moira's purple frown grew, and her eyes—real, human girl eyes—showed the pain and sadness of an adolescent who just couldn't fully grasp the situation, or probably just refused to. "Please, princess, we have to go! Come with me, we'll have so much fun together. We can be friends forever and never have to worry about fighting and hurting… and sadness and loneliness and… and mean people ever again! No pain, no grief, no Chaos!"

_Chaos? Vincent… _"Moira, what have you done to my friends?"

"I haven't done anything, Yuffie!" The brightly-colored jester girl actually started to sob. "Why won't you believe me? Wait, I think I understand now… you're scared. Come, I'm going to take you out of here now and bring you someplace safe, okay?"

"No…"

"We should leave before they get in here and try to harm you… they're of their own mind, I have no say in whom they hurt. That's why I guided you here through the ship to safety. Take my hand, princess," she said as she slowly reached out for her with her arm beginning to radiate a greenish, supernatural aura. "You'll feel better when we go home. You're too frightened to think clearly."

Yuffie immediately shot up from the table and backed away. "Frightened?! Of course I'm frightened!" The door was close to giving in, the pounding so loud now that Yuffie had to almost yell over the racket. "An army of bloodthirsty monsters are running amok on the airship and trying to kill everybody and it's because of you! Moira, I don't want to go with you! I want you to just leave me alone. Forever!" She ran to the breaching ingress and, in a twisted paradox, tried her best to help the monsters on the other side break the supernatural hold over the doors, figuring her odds were slightly better with them.

"Yuffie!" Moira sounded really upset now. The room shook as a cyclone began to scream up in power. "Yuffie, you're making a terrible mistake!"

"No, I'm not!" she insisted, even though she would be staring death in the face in a few seconds. "Moira, it's _you_ who's making the mistake!" Yuffie wrapped her fingers around one of the indents and pulled sideways with all her might. The poundings seemed to stop now, replaced with the sound of a metallic groan that seemed like those on the other side of the door began mimicking the little ninja's technique.

"No!" Moira wailed, long and grand. She charged up an electrical aura around that could only mean something bad for Yuffie.

"C'mon…!" Slowly, the double doors finally creaked apart. Yuffie gasped as a small dragon's head peaked through the gap. It stared at the floor away from the young girl, then it's whole body crumpled through once the doors gave way to open widely.

"Miss Kisaragi," Jethro greeted in his calm manner as he stepped over the overgrown lizard's corpse.

"Oh, my gawd!" Yuffie never thought she would be so happy to see the ex-SOLDIER.

"You…" Moira just about snarled at the blonde man.

"Moira, Moira, Moira," he sighed with a shake of the head. He defensively raised the piece of thick iron piping he used to weaken the force over the door. "I think it's time you left her alone. Run along, now."

"You're such a… a meanie!" Moira spat with a defiant stamp of her foot on the tabletop she stood on. She turned to Yuffie, trying to read her intentions now. The princess retreated behind Jethro's shadow. Moira was crushed. "This is what you want?" Tears streamed down her puppet cheeks. "To stay with the ones who will only lead you to countless tragedies for the rest of your life? You could have come with me, it's a perfect world…."

"It might be perfect for you, but I like my life here and wouldn't trade it away for anything in this world, or yours! Moira… we'll never be friends, do you understand? I can't forgive you for what you've done to all my friends! I never will, get that through your thick, pine tree head!"

Moira shook her head in disbelief, huffing and puffing, glaring daggers at the duo at the doorway. It wasn't long until another couple joined alongside them. Tifa and Vincent stood fast at their flanks and the clown girl wiped the tears from her eyes. "Chaos," she choked out in-between a sob, "This is all your doing, all your influence, all your _fault_! You took away the one true friend I could have ever had. We shall meet again… for the last time!" Instead of blinking out, she made an awe-inspiring display of a whirlwind exit.

The four swerved around at the symphony of impending destruction that moaned, growled, and cackled maniacally behind them. Twice as many monstrosities appeared from out of no where, stepping over the defeated cadavers of the initial wave slain by Jethro, Vincent, and Tifa.

"Now would probably the best time to make our escape," Jethro suggested, motioning his head for the platform above. The four heroes jumped up to the level above and fled the engine room, heading up the stairs that would take them to the observation deck, and off the airship to jump down to the snow-covered ground below.

"What about the others?" Tifa worriedly solicited as they sprinted up the steps.

"Let's worry about that once we get on open ground," Vincent responded, "We can't help them any if we get ourselves killed by superior numbers."

Their countless pursuers struggled up the steps after them. The four made it to the top of the stairs and looked behind to see that they now had the advantage. They readied their stances and prepared for the onslaught, but the hovering Highwind suddenly tipped to its side and began a rapid descent. When the Highwind sat idle, it would stay in an aerial docked position stationed high above the ground. Now it was just about crashing to the winter floor below.

The four heroes struggled to maintain their footing, but with the rapidly increasing arched trajectory, they ultimately were forced to jump off from the observation deck as the airship pounded into the ground on its side. Frosty dust spewed out in all directions, blinding the four as they waited for the debris screen to fade. It took some time, but they were eventually able to make out the airship once again. They had all landed a considerable distance from where the dirigible actually stopped moving.

"I don't see any more of those creatures," Tifa remarked after studying the crash site, shivering uncontrollably from the freezing temperatures much like Yuffie was. "We have to look for Cid and the others."

"Two of the crew area already dead…" Yuffie stated as she rubbed on her bare shoulders to fight back the cold.

"We saw," said Jethro. "The remains at the air vent and the body in Cleon's room, leaving the possibility of the other two still being alive."

Vincent stood from his kneeling position and turned his head towards his comrades. "Jethro, come with me and let's search the Highwind. They may need our help. Tifa, you and Yuffie stay right outside in case they leave the airship. Keep a look out for any hostiles in the area, as well." They all traded nods at his orders, and they all set off for the downed Highwind about half a kilometer in the distance.

Just as they almost reached their destination, they stopped dead in their tracks and gasped in shock. The Highwind exploded in an infernal plethora that lit up the night sky. They stood there frozen as they helplessly watched the smoldering wreckage plummet down to the earth as the flames danced their taunting waltz. Fearing for the worst for their compatriots, the four ran straight towards the debris, intent on finding any sign of the Cid, Cleon, or the other two missing crew members.

They navigated the hazardous maze of blazing rubble and paused as they saw an electrical crackle amidst a broad plume of black smoke. The smoke settled slowly and they made out what looked to be an orb of energy. Seconds later, the haze cleared enough for them to see Cleon kneeled down with his arms raised to his sides, the Materia on his gauntlets glowing brightly through the vapors. Tightly behind him was a seated Cid and a lying, wounded crew member shielded in his arms.

Cleon opened one eye and examined their surroundings, finally widening them both in complete shock. "It worked." He seemed quite surprised by the results, as were his two fellow survivors. He lowered his hands and the force field quickly dissipated with a sucking _thwirp, _then he stood and up and frantically patted his body to clarify if he was still okay.

"Are you guys alright?" Tifa asked anxiously as she rushed up to Cid and the lying man.

Cid nodded, his eyes still tensed as if he was still trying to comprehend the fact that he was still alive. "Thanks to Cleon." He looked down at the ship's navigator he had been shielding with his own body. He laid still, not breathing, and still bleeding profusely from the head wound he had gotten earlier. He didn't make it. They let out a sigh, with Cid shaking his head at the unfairness of it all, then he respectfully lifted him off of his person and set him down on the ground. "We saw what happened to Charlie and Bill… any'a you seen John?" Everyone answered with a shake of their head.

"What do we do now?" Yuffie asked, no longer shivering due to the ironically comforting fires of the surrounding infernos.

"Salvage what we can," Cid answered with a limp shrug. "We've got an emergency kit that's fire-proof somewhere around here. It's full of warm clothing and rations. We'll need 'em, cause we're headin' to Modeoheim in twenty minutes. By the way… Yuffie, Jethro." He tossed Jethro the Ultima Weapon and handed Yuffie her huge four-point shuriken. "I grabbed 'em before the explosion."

Jethro nodded. "Much obliged, captain."

"Thank you, Cid!" Yuffie expressed more enthusiastically with an appreciative hug for good measure. She no longer felt defenseless with a weapon held in hand. It was her very first shuriken she used, the one she had initially wielded with AVALANCHE until she came across the Conformer. Cid allowed her to store the original four-point on the airship as a memento of their adventures, and in case there ever was an emergency, much like now.

Soon they all split up and began searching through what they could, trying to find anything of use. Tifa came across some intact wood they could use as kindling for a fire in the event that one would be needed on the fifteen-mile trek, Jethro salvaged a length of rope he found within a metal container, Cid found his spare pack of cigarettes in his back pocket, and to nobody's surprise, Yuffie managed to sniff out several stray Materia lying amongst the wreckage. Cid then moved towards the area where the flight deck was located, hoping to find anything electronic they could use to gain their bearings.

"Cid," Vincent called out in a lowered voice. Cid turned to see Vincent kneeling in front of something orange amidst a pile of singed steel. He motioned for Cid to come see what he was studying.

"What is it?" He came up to see that Vincent kneeling before a rectangular device about the length of a pizza box. The front of it had a little screen, with which the caped gunslinger was watching a recording of what looked to be just a little bit before the attack took place. The device was the airship's crash-resistant flight recorder, designed to record all the footage from every security camera on the airship for playback to find out what happened in the event of a crash. "Wait… is that Cleon?"

"Yes."

"He's runnin' outta the missile room…"

"That's where we saw the explosion emit from as we approached the Highwind from the distance."

"The hell, you don't think he could'a sabotaged the explosives, do ya…?"

"I was trying to find that out, but the minutes before this clip seem to be corrupted."

"Aww, that's just a 'lil hiccup in the wiring. I can fix it up good as new if I could just get my hands on my tools inside the emergency kit. We gotta find that thing."

"Alright, but for now, I suggest we keep an eye on Cleon."

"Yeah… don't mention anythin' to anybody yet, though."

"Of course."

Cid picked up the flight recorder and the two started back for the others. It wasn't long before Vincent slowed down and stopped, his senses seeming to be peeked for something in the distance.

"What is it, Vince?"

The gunslinger scanned the horizon and surrounding hillsides. "Someone, or something is out there, watching us."

"Dammit… Think it could be Moira?"

Vincent remained silent for a few moments as he continued to inspect the distance, giving it some deep thought. "No. This is someone else. And there's more than one of them."

--

"They failed to kill the ones that mattered."

"Incompetent beasts, all of them."

"Relax, all of you. Moira can take care of Chaos. WEAPONs like them share a common destiny, and this one is an inevitable clash. He will be out of our troubles and we will have the war."

"Should Moira ever find out about her role in all of this…"

"Then do not speak of it. She could return at any time now."

Unbeknownst to the four shapeless, pitch-black masses conversing about their surreptitious plans, Moira was already there, listening, out of sight. And as the sobbing jester girl overheard more and more of how they referred to her as nothing but a mere tool in their plans, the tears began to stop and were replaced with rage. She was betrayed by the living. Now she was betrayed by the dead.

* * *

**Author's Note: I finished the chapter and skimmed through the ghost bit, then I forced myself to tone the entire thing down by like, over 9000 levels; I was worried about the rating and stuff, don't cha know.**

**This was a little rushed in that I wanted to get this chapter out of the goddamn garage, already.... I'll patch everything up and tighten up the loose ends before I put up the next chapter. No. Sleep. Past 2 days. Damn you, Fable II... Damn you.**

**Anyways, the chapters are winding down now, we're getting closer and closer to the finale, zomgggg. It's just the ex-SOLDIER, the sole representative of NMI, and the remnants of AVALANCHE left. Some more non-canon characters may or may not be introduced along the way (depending on how I see fit), but they'll generally play a minor role and will only be there for story purposes, so kick back, relax, and enjoy the closing chapters of the fantasy epic, Beyond Paradise 2. I know I will. Keep an eye out for Chapter 35: The Road to Perdition. **

**Cheers.**


	25. The Road to Perdition

**Beyond Paradise II**

_Disclaimer: I do not own Yuffie, Vincent, or anything/anybody else in this fiction, they belong to Square Enix. I also don't own previously established fictitious characters such as Moira, Zeb, or Jethro. They were created by the original fan fic's author, tolerant. Though, I DO claim a childish, unpatented ownership over my original/semi-original characters--Cleon, Questa, Max, Rakk, and Havern Glaire. And the recurring smoking guard. He's tiiight. This is not an "official" sequel by the original author, more like a tribute by me since the original has been discontinued, unfortunately. I am not affiliated with tolerant in any way, shape, or form (other than being a fan, of course)._

**Author's Note: Surprise, surprise, hiatus demised.**

**Here's the longest chapter to date. How deliciously evil. And in case you're keeping track of the time line, this chapter and the previous one overlaps the Turks' operation in Midgar, all happening on the same night.**

**

* * *

**_  
I'm digging my way  
I'm digging my way to something  
I'm digging my way to something better  
_

_I'm pushing to stay  
I'm pushing to stay with something  
I'm pushing to stay with something better  
_

_I'm sowing the seeds  
I'm sowing the seeds I've taken  
I'm sowing the seeds I take for granted  
_

_This thorn in my side  
__This thorn in my side is from the tree  
This thorn in my side is from the tree I've planted_

_Bleeding Me  
--James Hetfield_

- **Chapter 35: The Road to Perdition**

Squall after tumultuous squall beat against the six shivering figures trudging along the northern wastes. The chains of wintry tramontanas were punishingly incessant, chilling their very bones with its subzero caress as they hiked across the blank tundras, navigated the asymmetrically maze-like highlands, and clambered over the steepest elevated massifs deterring their route towards Modeoheim.

"T-this. S-sucks," Yuffie grumbled in a freezing stammer, her teeth chattering in time with the rest of her bodily quakes and her arms wrapped tightly across the chest of her orange parka. The complaint wasn't without merit. Despite the fact that it had probably been the thirtieth or fortieth time she had said the exact same thing in the past four hours, the others embraced the whine with matching distress.

"Hell, at least we're further south," Cid shivered from his place at the front of the single file line.

"Please don't mention 'hell'…"

"Yeah well, it ain't as cold here. Remember the Great Glacier and Gaea's Cliff up north?"

"I try not to!"

"We didn't even have any jackets like we do now."

"N-not as comforting as you'd think it would be… A-anybody have the t-time?"

"I hate the cold too much to lift my sleeve and check my watch," monotonously replied Tifa. After a short moment, she decided to check it anyway. "It's exactly a quarter to three," she answered, only having lifted the fabric around her wrist for a split second. Tifa didn't normally sport a wristwatch, but it was one of the few from the Highwind's fire-resistant emergency kit and she was offered it by Cid.

"The sun better come up soon," said Yuffie with a brisk shake of her head. "This cold's just stupid!"

"Actually," Jethro chimed in from his place in the rear while gazing up at the night sky's haunting aurora, "Since it's the Northern Continent, I don't think the sun would be up till high noon, if even at all, as is the case on some days around these parts."

Cid snorted. "Hey, man, do us a favor and keep that kinda shit to yourself…" It wasn't long before the path began to narrow dramatically, looking like they would be forced to hug the cliff at some point. "Watch your step here, guys," he cautioned as he took off the large knapsack filled with everything left over from the emergency kit salvaged from the wreck.

He led the party on, shifting the pack to his right shoulder so he could stick closer to the mountain wall, and they all walked along carefully. The glacial footpath was about half the width of a single person bed, with a solid cliff face sans lifesaving support grips on one side and a perilous drop offering nothing to meet them at the bottom but deadly, jagged rock formations should they lose their balance.

"We've gotta pick up the pace," Cid called out over the howling air, yet another potential enemy from the elements to their situation. "The winds are blowing us _into_ the cliff now but could change any time and knock us off." With that, the crew doubled their tempo, but soon came across what seemed to be the thinnest part in the trail.

Yuffie peaked around Tifa and gasped at the treacherously slender track they would have to pass. "No," she contested with a shake of her head. "No-no-no-no-no! That's way too narrow!"

"Maybe, uh," Tifa barred her teeth and peered down below at the very, _very _long, rocky drop, "Maybe she's right. We should probably turn back and find another way…"

"Seconded," Cleon called out with an agreeing raise of his finger.

Vincent shook his head. "The only thing behind us is the foot of the mountain and it would take hours to head back and walk around."

"Well," Cid waned, "When you're right, you're right. Let's keep going, hopefully we ain't too far to the top from here, or at least a little clearing or a cave that snakes all the way back down to ground level. Sonuvabitch, this is high…" he murmured with eyes bulged as he began shuffling along the wall.

"Alright," Tifa sighed, "Let's go. Hey Cid, let me help you with that," she offered, taking a strap from the knapsack so the two shared the burden of the heavy pack as they all hesitantly continued on.

"Oh my gawd," Yuffie whimpered as she pressed her back against the cliff as hard as she could. She had to tear her eyes away from the brink and try her best to keep her gaze to the skies above. "Just don't look down, just don't look down, just don't- oh crap, that's deep!"

"Don't panic, Yuffie," Tifa advised as reassuringly as she could, trying to mask her own uneasiness. "It'll be over before you know it."

Every few seconds, a bit of ice would slide off as somebody inched across it, trickling off the side like a light rain and shrinking into the darkness below. At one point, Jethro nearly slipped, scaring the hell out of both him and the Mage to his side, and the two froze to watch a chunk of snow fall the long way down. After their breathing settled, Jethro turned to see that his hand was gripping Cleon's chest.

"Sorry," Jethro quickly apologized, ignoring Cleon's gawky glare.

Their worst fears were soon realized when the winds changed directions; a nasty gust shifted against them in a manner that threatened to shove the six figures off of their elevated perch.

"Keep moving!" Cid ordered, his free hand shielding his eyes from the violent flurry. "Looks like we're almost there!"

"'There?'" Yuffie repeated. "Where the heck is 'there?!'"

"Keep going, keep going!"

The wind died down temporarily and they shimmied across the precipice with more caution then ever before. It was an on-again-off-again struggle against the elements, slothing along when the gusts faded away, and bracing for the worst when it made its inevitable return.

"Whoa!" Cid gasped as he felt Tifa almost slip behind him. "You a'right?"

"Yeah," she quickly assured while raising herself back up with some help from Yuffie, "I just—"

The ground beneath her collapsed and Tifa fell screaming off the ledge. Cid dug his footing into the snow as the whiplash from the knapsack they both still held hit, but it wasn't enough and he lost his balance, tumbling forward. At the last second, he grabbed the edge, and they both dangled helplessly like rag dolls from the side of a snowy mountain.

"No wait," Vincent stopped Yuffie before she bent down to try to grab a hold of Cid. "The ledge is too narrow, you don't have enough room to do any good."

"We can't just stand here and do nothing!"

"He's right," Jethro quickly concurred, "It's a miracle the ice he's grabbing onto hasn't collapsed from the fall."

Cid groaned strenuously and looked down at Tifa, who was holding on for dear life. The wintry valley floor far below her was dizzying, but he remained steadfast for both their sakes. "Hold on, Tifa!"

"So then what are we gonna do?!" screeched Yuffie. "Cleon use that Materia and summon a bird or... a helicopter or something!"

He gave her an _'are you being serious?' _look and she understood that he couldn't help either. Yuffie then watched Vincent begin to quickly examine their surroundings and followed suit in the hopes that they could find something that could help. Behind them was a solid wall, below a sheer drop, in front was a distant horizon, and above was what seemed to be the mountain peak or just a higher precipice, quite a ways up. Nothing of any use. The awkward proximity was their greatest enemy to their situation; they were powerless to save Cid and Tifa.

"Tifa," Cid strained, "I can see a ledge right there to the right, hold on tight now, I'm gonna swing you to it!"

"Okay!"

Cid began swinging the pack to and fro, building momentum. It took some time, a few attempts, and many frustrated curses, but eventually Cid built up enough motion to deliver Tifa close enough to his level. Tifa reached for the edge and grabbed on with a free hand, but her grip slipped and she swung back to the other side. Cid's sore arm felt like it would tear right off its socket, but he summoned enough strength for one last try. With a thunderous, drained howl, he brought Tifa to successfully clutch the edge. She firmly grasped the lifeline but Cid dropped the knapsack in the process out of exhaustion.

"Goddammit!" Cid grouched as he watched it plummet down the side of the snowy alp. "Aww, forget it…" He glanced to make sure Tifa was safe and reached up at the edge with his other hand. Then he looked up at the relieved faces of his other comrades. "Hey… nobody else fall, a'right?" he joked while catching his breath.

Yuffie managed to laugh the worry away as she watched him shimmy across to clamber up onto the ledge with the assistance of Tifa, and she and the others ambled along the wall to join the duo.

"Hey you guys," Tifa called out, "This is… this is a cave, it looks like a cave system! It must go through the mountain, maybe we could follow it all the way back down to the ground."

Cid waved for them to hurry. "C'mon now, get yer rears in gear!"

Yuffie paused. "Easier said than done, old man!"

"Quit yer complaining, it's just ten more steps, brat!"

"Why don't you get your grease monkey butt over _here_, then!"

Yuffie resumed shuffling along the dinner plate-sized footpath. She squeaked as her foot slid off, causing her to freeze in place, staring down at the lofty drop below her. She almost jumped as a golden claw rested gently on top of her shoulder. Yuffie turned her head and looked up at the caped gunslinger beside her who gave her a quick, reassuring nod. Her breathing settled again as she returned the nod and the four continued on.

"Oh, shizznit…" Cleon suddenly mumbled, causing all eyes around him to center out of curiosity.

"Wha…?" Yuffie raised her head at the sound of a muffled _boom! _followed by a low rumbling reverberating from above. A veritable waterfall of snow erupted from the peak and sloped towards them in an increasing torrent.

"Avalanche!" Cid cried out. "Get yer asses over here, move-move-move!"

The whole mountain seemed to tremor with the Planet's raging fury as they rushed to the safety of the precipice ahead. The midnight horizon vanished behind the arctic cascade, a hauntingly lethal sight that grew more hazardous every moment, the frigid blizzard hitting the tops of their heads becoming heavier and heavier. Yuffie was the first to sidestep into the arms of the awaiting Tifa, followed immediately by Vincent. Cleon jumped with heels barely touching the side, but fell back with Cid as the latter pulled the collar of his parka.

The thin trail crumbled into the avalanche with Jethro still on it. He leapt forward with all abandon, his hands outstretched for anything he hoped could be used to save his life. His fingers grasped the gloved digits of Vincent, who used the force of momentum to swing the blonde swordsman around in an arc until he could get back on his feet.

The avalanche continued to gush down outside, the punishing rumble beating against the outer layer of the cavern entrance, and bits and chunks falling from the ceiling warned that it would collapse at any moment. They all ran deeper into the grotto while dodging a gauntlet of deadly stalactites showering from above. The entrance caved in and immeasurable tons of snow and rock came crashing down to form an icy tomb, hundreds of feet above the ground.

--

Cleon shivered again and examined the slope before him, determining the steepness too much to bypass. His arms wrapped around himself, he then started back to his point of origin, placing a palm on the side of every stalagmite and pillaring mound of snow he passed. Rounding a corner, the unconscious figure of Tifa came before him surrounded by the chunks of snow and ice from when they both fell through the frigid ceiling above. He approached the lying nymph and stared at her with his teeth chattering up a storm, waiting impatiently for any signs of her arousal.

After some time, Cleon bit his lip. "Psst."

She stirred somewhat at the call, but remained still.

"Heeey? Wakey wakey or your Gil I'll takey. Rise and shine. Time for school? Okimasu. Despertarse, gising na, se réveiller? There ya go, c'mon now."

Tifa peeped open her wine-colored hues to see the Mage standing above her. He had a spot of crimson dried up across his right temple from a cut that had recently been taken. She opened her mouth but her jaw throbbed too much to allow any words to come out.

Cleon waved two pointed index fingers at her as if trying to recall her name. "…Tifa!" he finally said. "You cool?" He offered her his hand.

She took it and he lifted her up. "Yeah, I'm fine. Where, ow… Where's everybody else?"

Cleon spun on his heel and took a few steps forward. "We all got separated." He then began pointing down various tunnels. "The old guy slid down a slope thataways, blondie over there, and bloodsucker's somewhere-ish up there. You knocked out after we fell through that crevice…" They both peaked their ears at the sound of an echoing _'hello?' _"And Little Miss Ninja's been shrieking like a night hawk for the past ninety-three seconds somewheres over yonder."

Tifa ran a hand through her hair and squinted down the turquoise dimness of the last tunnel. "If Yuffie's the closest, let's go down that way. We need to regroup." She checked her watch, but the glass was cracked. "Great… my watch is broken."

"Its three-o-three a.m."

"What?" Tifa asked curiously as she followed after him down the tunnel, sure that she hadn't seen him raise his sleeve or anything else to indicate that he had a watch. "How do you know?"

"Because it's been one thousand and ninety-seven seconds since you last told us what time it was, duh," he said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

Tifa blinked. "You kept track of every second since then?"

"I always do," he corrected like it was something every person did while touching another stalagmite they passed by.

"Always? You mean as in, all the time? Wow, guess that's why it seems like you're never paying attention…"

"…What?"

Tifa chuckled and shook her head. After awhile of wandering alongside the Mage, she began to wonder why he placed his hand on every mound of snow they passed followed by rubbing the opposite wrist with said hand.

"Why do you do that?"

"Huh? Do what now?"

"Place your hand on every patch and mound we pass by and then twist your wrist like that?"

"'Cause something bad will happen if I don't."

Tifa tilted her head. "What are you talking about?"

"Just like I said. If I stop doing it, something bad's gonna happen. By the way, you got red on you."

Tifa looked down to see that she had a spot of blood on the chest of her parka. She finally recognized the sting on her lower lip and felt the cut that had developed from the fall. It wasn't serious, so she wiped it with her sleeve and continued to follow after Cleon.

She squinted her eyes while watching him palm another stalagmite, then opened them wide in realization. "Wait, you have… you have OCD, obsessive-compulsive disorder!"

"Wha- no way, this is completely different."

Tifa held back a snicker. "Well, you do realize that the thoughts of something bad happening linked to your compulsions aren't true, right?"

"I'm not gonna stop, if that's what you're insinuating."

"Give it a try, OCD can be really detrimental, y'know? You'll feel loads better."

"Fine, fine…" he gave up with a roll of his eyes, foreseeing that she would probably keep going until he surrendered. "But watch what happens when I don't touch the next pillar, watch."

They meandered along the icy, glimmering passageway and after awhile, simply walked passed the next mound of ice, much to Cleon's biting chagrin. They continued their roam, Tifa's smile growing with every step they took.

"See?" she said with cheerful triumph. "Nothing!"

"You watch, it'll happen."

"Just what, exactly?"

"I dunno, but it's coming. And it's gonna suck."

"Well, I think you're too high-strung. You should try looking at the bright side of things, for a change. But I'll admit, the keeping track of time thing can come in pretty handy."

There was a fork coming up, two tunnels that could lead down to anywhere. The duo stopped at the head, but before they could begin to debate on which direction to take, somebody in another blaze orange parka came running down the right tunnel towards them.

"Tifa!" Yuffie shouted happily while running up.

"Yuffie, you're alright!" Tifa held the younger girl out in front of her and glanced behind her. "What's down there?"

"Nothing, why do you think I came this way, hello?"

Tifa giggled and turned to Cleon. She shook her head with a smile as he gave her a _'I told you so' _look before entering the left tunnel ahead of them. Yuffie looked back to see whom Tifa was staring at and rolled her eyes at the orange blur disappearing behind the corner.

"You've got the worst luck," the little ninja said as they both started after him.

"He's not so bad. A little strange, but almost like in a… Cait Sith kind of way."

Yuffie frowned while thinking back at their robotic casualty. "Think Reeve could rebuild him?"

"I'm sure, as soon as we set everything right again."

Walking deeper down the icy passageway, they heard a voice from further down echo off the acoustics of the walls. The two young women traded a look, trying to decipher what it was saying, but soon recognized the voice.

Cleon stopped at the end of the tunnel, several meters in front of them. "It's SOLDIER boy." They then saw his head tilt to the side as if out of curiosity. "Hey," he mumbled lowly, "He found somebody over here…"

"Tifa, Yuffie!" the voice of Cid spoke over the Mage's sentence as the captain jumped down from a hole in the wall. "There ya guys are! You seen the others?"

Yuffie nodded. "Cleon's up ahead right there with Jethro, and it sounds like they just found Vincent, too."

"Well a'right! The crew's all back together, let's saddle up and head on out."

"There's just one problem." They all jumped at the deep voice behind them, spinning around to see Vincent suddenly standing there. "That's not me they found."

Tifa, Cid, and Yuffie traded looks and they all started down the tunnel on the quick step. The acoustics amplified the conversation coming from the end of the snowy passageway as they approached the clearing ahead. The words from what seemed to be three voices became more distinct and decipherable.

"_Maybe you should leave her alone, man…"_

"_Nonsense, she appears to be injured."_

"_Please, I'll be okay. Just leave me be."_

"_Uh, I think you should do what she says."_

"_Have you no heart? Excuse me, miss, we can help you. Come, take my hand."_

"_No, it's okay. I'll be just fine, really."_

"Jethro?" Tifa called out. "Jethro, wait!"

The four broke into a run for the blonde swordsman and teenaged Mage.

"_No, don't touch me…"_

"_My dear, you have no need to fear me. Allow me to help you up."_

"Wait, don't touch her!" Cid spat.

"No, Jethro, no!" Yuffie shouted. "Keep it in your pants!"

The four screeched to a halt beside Cleon but were too late. They all looked on as the cloaked woman jumped up with a burst of unseen energy that sent Jethro flying. He landed at their feet and they all watched as the slender woman tore off her cloak.

A flash of cyan whipped the frosty air and her long, flowing hair settled free-floatingly behind her pale blue figure, which was covered quite scantily by what could best be described as a matching one-piece swimsuit.

"That's a Snow!" Cid announced, remembering the same type of monster from AVALANCHE's encounter with it months before at the Great Glacier further north. "Stand back!"

"You've got some nerve… waltzing into my domain and fondling me like that…" it growled while glaring fiercely with bright titian hues and a cobalt face grimaced with furious anger.

All eyes turned to scowl at Jethro and he shrugged in confusion. "What? I was just trying to be nice!" He rose up alongside his compatriots and readied the Ultima Weapon.

"Silence!" The Snow raised its hands to the ceiling and a frigid whirlwind began spinning around it. "You shall pay for your insolence." Before the six knew it, the Snow flew at them in a tornadic fervor and they leaped out of its attack in all directions. "Now DIE!"

Cid was the first to receive a blast of elemental ice. He was on his knees with his back towards the Snow; when he turned his head it was already too late to escape. He shielded himself with his arms and braced for the beam, but it never came. He opened his eyes to see the back of Vincent's red cloak.

"So, you absorb ice attacks…" the Snow stated darkly.

Vincent's only answer was raising his Cerberus and firing a barrage. The Snow hurdled away from the gunfire and perched itself atop a mound on the other end of the clearing.

"Kill it with fire!" Tifa shouted before breaking into a run to avoid the freezing wind blowing from the Snow's mouth. She ducked behind a wide stalagmite out of harm's way. "Cleon!"

There was a piercing shriek and an infernal conflagration hit the Snow dead on, melting the ice off the walls and ground in its blast radius with sizzling efficiency. When the destructive flames settled, the Snow was gone from its perch.

"Damn," Cid said with a whistle as he walked up. "Good hit."

"Watch out, behind you!" Yuffie screeched.

The Snow had avoided the blaze somehow and appeared behind the baffled Mage. It fired an ice beam into the ceiling and a heavy load of snow fell down on the unwary Cleon. The Snow followed through with another conjured whirlwind which kicked up such a blinding flurry that it forced the others to seek cover behind various points in the icy battle zone.

Cleon coughed as the white dust around him dissipated. Literally buried up to his neck, he shook the bits of snow from the top of his beanie. He strained his eyes open, squinted at the Snow monster standing some ways before him, and began trying to free himself.

But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't break free. "Seriously…?" he scoffed at the ridiculousness of his predicament.

"Now," the Snow sighed before it kissed its slender fingers, "Follow me, my darling. I am your bride!" The words echoed like the ages as a soothing glow coated the trapped teenager; it was the Snow's infamous Fascination attack that inflicts a seductive spell of confusion to brainwash potential male victims into fighting for it.

The crimson aura caressed the Mage with an alluring miasma of hollowed promises and uncontainable temptation. Scents of hot spices, red roses, and fresh juniper corroded his senses with a glamorous captivation that appealed for steadfast cooperation with the unspoken vow of lustfully passionate rewards under the single condition that he turn on his allies without question. They were now the enemy, they were now an evil taint upon the world that had to be eradicated. They were the very personifications of corruption, and he was her queen of perfect, undying divinity.

And then Cleon sneezed. "Ugh. What the hell was that?"

The Snow barred her teeth. "One's immune to frost, the other to confusion, what's next? You're an odd bunch…"

An oversized shuriken cut through the air and ricocheted off the monster's back. The Snow screeched and blew another Cold Breath attack at Yuffie before she could catch her weapon. The combatants danced around the room, popping out of cover to deliver a payload of quick assaults on their foe and then ducking or diving back to safety. This went on until Jethro was cornered and hit with the same Fascination attack.

"Come here, sweetheart!" the Snow beckoned as Jethro was bathed in the burgundy glow. He wasn't immune to the seductive embrace and he started for Vincent with the Ultima Weapon ready to strike.

"Look out, Vince!" Cid warned. "It confused Jethro!"

"Or perhaps showed his true colors," Vincent said quietly while beginning to dodge a series of swipes from the enchanted swordsman.

Jethro continued to throw himself at the gunslinger in a maladroit stupor, his eyes drooped from the trance. Cid came up from behind and restrained Jethro, whom was too spell-drunk to effectively shake free from the full nelson hold.

"Hurry!" Cid barked. "Get that Snow _now! _Give her everything you've got!_"_

Tifa sprang high into the air from behind her cover with a mighty _'he-yah!'_ and a blindingly luminous fist. The literal explosion from her Final Heaven punch knocked the blocking Snow back over many yards, its feet making two parallel trails from its slide across the snowy dais. The female monster was too dazed to see the orange blur charging from its side; Yuffie struck their foe fifteen times with her 4-Point Shuriken and lightning speed. This series of acrobatic blows was her Doom of the Living technique, which intertwined seamlessly in-between Tifa's chain of punches and kicks, sporadically tag teaming in and out before the Snow could react to any maneuver.

The chaotic display culminated with a somersault kick from the raven haired martial artist that sent the Snow to crumble flat on its back. "You… wretches…" the Snow coughed weakly as it pulled itself up to its feet with feeble mediocrity. "I won't give up that easily. You won't take me down without a fight!" It made a lackadaisical charge towards the two AVALANCHE females but collapsed to its knees half way. "Damn…!"

Yuffie stared at the weakened monster, almost pitifully helpless to defend itself from the next attack they would throw at it. "Alright!" she shouted before dashing for the monster to deliver the finishing blow.

"Yuffie, wait!"

Yuffie skidded to a stop and glanced back to see Tifa running up beside her. "What? Why, are you crazy?! Let's take this sucker out before it's too late!"

"Yuffie," Tifa cut her off, shaking her head. Hesitantly, she then bent down in front of the kneeling, defeated Snow. "Please, listen," Tifa implored, deliberately waiting for eye contact.

The Snow slowly raised its face with eyebrows knitted in confusion. It was breathing hard from exhaustion and, by the look it gave Tifa, clearly never expected such 'ambassadorial' behavior after everything that had just taken place. But Tifa was tired of killing when it was not even needed. Plus, the Snow could be their only ticket to navigating their way out of that maze of a cave system as fast and safely as possible.

"We never meant you any harm in the first place," Tifa explained. "We just wanted to find a way through this mountain and get to Modeoheim, an old town about a mile north of here. And we're all freezing and need shelter and rest before heading out." She then took a disappointed glance behind her at the now-normal Jethro. "I apologize, you'll have to excuse Jethro. He, uh, tends to get really 'grabby' around women…"

Yuffie stepped into sight from behind Tifa with arms crossed. "Believe us. We know."

The Snow didn't know how to even react at first. It was angry at Jethro's actions, but it wasn't stupid. Eventually, it sighed before taking the hand Tifa offered to help it up. After a few attempts, it painfully stood erect, twisted a few cricks from its neck and looked back down at the two women before her.

"You… you all must be freezing," the Snow started with some discomfort in its voice. The whole situation was still quite awkward. It then pointed towards a slope that led up to a higher floor. "There's a small, open peak up their with a few trees for firewood. You may make camp here until you're ready to move out. Welcome to my domain, strangers."

By now, Cid, Vincent, and Jethro walked up to join the other three standing on the snowy dais. Suddenly, Cleon's voice caught their attention.

"Yeah, guys," he said, shivering uncontrollably and still buried up to his neck in the snow. "If it's not too much trouble…"

--

"Heck of a night its been, hasn't it?"

Vincent simply nodded. It was Yuffie's first attempt at a conversation with the gunslinger since their little heart-to-heart earlier in his room of the Highwind.

Yuffie bent down and threw the broken wood into the pile behind her. It was extra kindling; somewhat unneeded, really. There was already an adequate blaze raging down below in the icy chamber, something lit by Cleon and a full-on Fire 3. Much of the wood was charred to oblivion after the spell, so as soon as the screaming stopped and Cid suggested they would probably need more firewood, Yuffie immediately volunteered both Vincent and herself. Now here they were in the freezing cold on a small precipice high up on some snowy alp gathering bits of tree guts.

Yuffie sighed and sat down on the stump of the small conifer they had knocked over, shivering vigorously with her arms wrapped around herself. "Hey Vinnie, aren't you cold?"

He shook his head. He was the only one in the group who didn't don any of the winter gear from the Highwind emergency kit, simply keeping on his red cloak and leather ensemble just like he had all those months back during their stint in the Great Glacier further north.

"Wow," she continued, "Guess when you've been stuck in a coffin for thirty years, you tend to forget a few things. Like how to freeze your butt off, huh?"

"Yuffie, let's return to camp. We have more than enough kindling now."

Yuffie glared at him. "What's the rush? Let's wait awhile."

"Why?"

"It's nicer up here."

Vincent tilted his head. "You're shivering, I don't understand how—"

"You talk too much, Vinnie. Just shut it, get over here, and watch the horizon with me."

Vincent did what he was told and stood by the little ninja. He didn't take too long as if he were shocked at her frankness nor immediately go as if he were afraid. With no readable expression on his face, he simply meandered on over all fluid and perfect, taking his sweet time in his typical Vincent way. Or at least that's the thought Yuffie had.

They quietly watched the arctic landscape before them. Dark skies, howling wind, distant mountains, lots of snow. Amazing.

"Thank you, Yuffie."

Yuffie choked and shot a face up at Vincent that looked like she had just learned where babies come from. She opened her mouth and a ridiculous jumble of half-words spewed out, finally ending with a very confused "…Huh?"

"For the new weapon. I never got a chance to thank you."

_Did Vincent Valentine really just say that? _"Uh… whoa, whoa, I-uh…" She rubbed the side of her neck, trying to find the words. "You're welcome," she finally replied.

And that was that. There was a long silence between them afterward, and it was maddening. The quiet bothered Yuffie more than anything, so she said the first thing that came to her mind.

"Materia."

"What?"

"Er, how's the gun? Shoot straight? Y'know like, is it accurate? Strong caliber, good handling? How are the sights? Does it really fire all three barrels at once? Does it have long range? It as cool as that old guy said it was?"

"It's perfect." He intentionally waited until he was sure she was finished.

"Oh," Yuffie chuckled nervously as if she was the one who made the gun, "Cool. Is it, uh… is it better than the Death Penalty?"

His breath caught in his throat. He sighed lightly and nodded. "Yes."

Yuffie caught on. "Sorry. I didn't mean…" She shrugged and lowered her head, burying deeper into herself and bringing her legs up to her chest. "She gave you that, right? The Death Penalty, I mean?"

Vincent nodded again.

"Yeah. It sucks that that SOLDIER girl broke it..."

Vincent slowly turned his head to the side.

"We'll get her. We'll make her pay. She had no right to do that. She's a total…" She finally noticed his attention was focused elsewhere and she started darting her eyes about. "What is it?" Yuffie asked in a whisper. "The thing you told us about?"

"They're around. Just watching us."

She knitted her brows. "'They?' More than one? How many?"

"I can't tell."

"Well, what do we do?"

"Nothing," he answered, bending down to pick up the kindling. "Let's head back to the others."

"Why nothing?" she asked, following down the slope after him. "We should call 'em out! We can take 'em!"

Vincent shook his head. "It's not the right time."

She grabbed onto the back of his cloak to stop him. "What are you talking about, it's always the right time to kick some ass!"

He calmly turned around, looking into her eyes. "They have the advantage, we can't see them. We don't know how powerful they are, either. And we don't know what they're fully capable of. That avalanche, they were the cause of it."

"What? You're talking about sabotage? How do you know?"

"We did nothing to cause it and there was some sort of explosion up there right before it happened. I'm sure of it."

Yuffie frowned. "Well… okay. I trust you. You never lead me wrong yet, it'd be crazy to start doubting you now." They both continued down the long snowy slope. "Hey, how can you tell anyway?" she asked, running up beside him. "I can't sense, or see, or hear anything or whatever!"

Vincent gave it a moment. "When you've been stuck in a coffin for thirty years, you also tend to pick up a few things."

Yuffie froze with her jaw practically hitting the floor. "You… you just told another joke!" she exclaimed, pointing her finger like she was accusing him of murder. He simply continued to stroll down the slope and she shook her head and ran after him. "Vinnie, after all this is over, I'm gonna write a book about you! It's gonna be entitled, _'The Lighter Side of Vincent Valentine' _and its just gonna be full of all the funnies you've made so far!"

"Sounds like it would be a short book."

Yuffie gasped. "See look, that's… that's half of page one! Right there!"

--

Everything disappeared around Tifa. She suddenly found herself standing in the middle of a blank nothingness, just white light as far as the eye could see. She was shocked, needless to say, and darted her head around in utter confusion. Tifa took a few steps forward, senses peaked for anything that could explain such a phenomenon, but a hushed tranquility was her only embrace.

She heard a canine whimpering behind her and Tifa spun around. A gray wolf stood not too far away from her, silent and forlorn, staring at the floor that wasn't there. A young man was beside it looking down in the opposite direction. A young man that made her heart drop to the deepest pit of her stomach.

"_Cloud?" _The name echoed off unseen walls. _"Is that you?"_

He remained unstirred as if he didn't hear her, keeping his gaze to the floor. Tifa took a step forward, goose bumps of hope and fear crawling down her arms and chest. Something was wrong, and she knew it. She started towards him, but the distance was longer than she could have imagined. _"Cloud!" _She was running faster, but he was getting further away no matter how quickly her feet carried her.

He finally raised his head and looked at her. Despite their gap, she could perfectly see the expression on his face. It was unreadable, unfamiliar, and she was unable to identify it. He then shook his head, wordlessly telling her to stay away. A black, greenish mass appeared behind the wolf and the blonde man, growing monstrous in scale, consuming everything around it with a blockbuster scream of archaic intensity.

"_Cloud, no!" _

She ran straight into Yuffie, who stopped her charge with arms gripping Tifa's shoulders. "Tifa! Are you okay, what's wrong? Why are you running?!"

Tifa was back on the slope. The snow-laced ground and icy walls surrounded her once again. She paused, catching her breath from such a paranormal rush, and looked back before her to see the concerned faces of Yuffie and Vincent staring back at her, waiting for her to say something.

Tifa gave a smile as best as she could and shook her head. "Nothing. Nothing's wrong, I guess I'm just a little shaken up from everything. Guess this cold's just getting to me." The duo stared back at her meticulously, clearly not buying the fictitious guarantee. Tifa took one final, deep breath before continuing. "C'mon, let's get back to the others, okay? We were all beginning to wonder why you guys were taking so long."

Yuffie sighed and glanced over her shoulder. "Okay, then. Let's go, Vince," she said, motioning her head to continue on. She then looked back up at Tifa and gave her a narrowed stare, the kind that said, _"You'd better tell me what's wrong later, got it?"_

Tifa nodded supportively and started back to the campfire with them. They soon reached the spot set in the middle of the chamber, a small roaring blaze with their friends huddled anxiously around it. The Snow was seated in the shadows a noticeable distance away from the flame's warmth, its arms and legs crossed, vacantly eyeing the dancing fire.

As they came by to find a place to settle, Cid looked up. "There ya are! What took ya?"

"Vincent was chatting my ear off," Yuffie replied while watching said gunslinger feed the fire with the extra kindling. "Are we heading out any time soon?"

"Naw, after the last couple days we thought it'd be a good idea to rest here for awhile."

"Thank Leviathan," Yuffie said as she curled up in the welcome heat. "Oh my gawd, what I wouldn't give for a nice cup of hot cocoa or something. Vinnie, make the fire as big as you can, yeah?"

The fire grew with the extra fuel and Vincent sat himself down as well beside the empty spot Yuffie had saved for him. For some time they all sat there, taking in the warmth. Legs crossed, kneeling, lying on their thighs, nobody looking at one other but instead keeping their gazes on the crackling blaze and thinking their own thoughts about the past, the present, and the future. It was a long time before Yuffie broke the silence.

"Hey, uh," she started, directed at the Snow, "Don't you wanna have a seat by the fire or something?"

It shook its head. "For obvious reasons. But I thank you for your concern." It was actually quite polite, surprisingly.

"So, uh… do you have a name?"

"No. I was never given one."

"Hey, how were you born, anyway? Do you have a mom and dad, or were you just like—"

"Yuffie," Tifa interrupted. She then turned to the Snow. "Sorry."

"It's alright. And whenever you are ready, I will guide you through the mountain towards the northern exit. I know these lands well, and I also know where this town you speak of is. I shall escort you there as far as I am able once you are ready."

Some nods of appreciation and the silence returned, everybody just watching the gentle waltz of the crackling flames. Soon after, Cid felt the itch to speak.

"Cleon, I gotta ask you something. Now's a good a time as any. After the airship blew up, I took a look at the black box security footage. It's gone now, fell off with the back pack right before that avalanche before I could give it a fix and see the corrupted bits, but I saw _you_ running outta the missile room right before the explosion. The missile room was where the epicenter of the blast took place. Now, I ain't accusing you of anything but I'm just gonna ask you straight up. Did you blow up the Highwind?"

"No, I did not blow up your airship."

Cid raised a brow, a little surprised by the seriousness and formality of his answer. "What about Charlie, the dead mechanic in your room?"

"He went in there and tried to hit me with a lead pipe."

"What?"

"Just like I said, he tried to hit me with a lead pipe."

"Okay, let's just rewind to the beginning, what happened?"

"I woke up and he came at me with a lead pipe. I flung him around, ran out, dodged monsters, and ducked into the missile room. There was a bomb there but I ran off when a swarm of… something came at me. I ran passed Yuffie and back into the fog…"

"You scared the crap outta me, y'know!"

"…and bumped into you and the other guy."

"Y'know," Jethro chimed in, "Moira could have had a hand in all that. Sounds like she possessed the mechanic and went after Cleon first. It would explain why all the motion sensors in our rooms were off."

"What if _you _had a hand in all this?" Cid queried with a scowl.

"Mr. Highwind, I assure you, that would be the last thing—"

"How do we know you're not leading us into a trap with some elaborate scheme? You could turn us all in at a moment's notice!"

Tifa sighed. "Not again… Cid, this isn't the right time to be attacking each other, nor was it ever a right time to be attacking each other, nor will it ever be a right time. We're on the same team here."

"What if Cid's right, though?" Yuffie asked. "Jethro created that clown girl and now its run amok. Who's to say he isn't secretly controlling it?"

Jethro frowned. "I want that thing dead just as much as anybody here."

"Not me, I wanna go home."

"Shut it, Cleon. Jethro, you're always so calm during everything, though! Its like you already know everything that's happening and are just waiting for the right time to stab us in the back!"

"I've already told you that I've chosen to defect to your side and will remain so until Moira is gone and Neo-ShinRa has been taken down. This is a personal vendetta for me."

"Then why did you make that jester doll in the first place?"

Jethro sighed. "I've explained this before, but I guess its my fault for being so vague. I will start from the beginning. First off, let's get it straight that I originally created Moira to help Zeb take his revenge on you."

He paused, allowing the words to sink into everybody's ears. He then shifted his seating into a more comfortable position for what was to come, thinking of the best way to continue.

"Zeb and I grew up together in Sector 7. I enlisted in ShinRa's army to get out of the slums, eventually being recognized as SOLDIER material, and he went on to marry his sweetheart and have a daughter. Considered an 'expendable half-rate' for a 2nd Class, I was perpetually assigned to body guard work for various ShinRa VIPs, but only when they were on site, so I myself had plenty of off-duty hours. Zeb and I still kept in close contact, meeting up a few times a week for coffee and a bite to eat to catch up on things. Sometimes they even invited me for dinner at their home.

"Every time I came over, his daughter would jump for joy at seeing 'uncle Jethro' and practically interrogate me like there was no tomorrow. So many questions, wanting to know everything about the outside world, and I gladly answered every single one. She was such an adorable little thing, a ray of sunshine in a dank nothingness of dilapidated hovels. Their living conditions were meager and humble. Their home was an ad hoc construction of salvaged metal plates and latched timber. She was just so happy, though; always smiling, always laughing that infectious giggle of her's at every silly little thing, just so optimistic about the future and overjoyed for having such loving parents. She got that from her mother.

"I can honestly say that I respected that man so much that I never even _thought_ about stealing a glimpse at his wife. I really had to hand it to Zeb for nabbing such a catch. Flowing red hair, porcelain skin more perfect than the finest silk, humble and thankful for all the simple things, and a body like a supermodel. She was so beautiful, just like the bright little bundle of joy she was so proud to call her daughter. They were a perfect family, close and tight-knit, just so ecstatic to have one another. Zeb would have been out of his mind to not have been the happiest person in the world.

"Then the plate fell on Sector 7," Jethro continued more somberly as he stared deeper into the flames. The others were quite surprised; this was the first time any of them had seen the ex-rebel so serious. "As you know, his wife and child were killed in the tragedy. Believing the lies ShinRa fed the public, Zeb solely blamed AVALANCHE for everything that happened and longed for vengeance no matter the cost. He begged for my help, knowing my background and knowledge of ShinRa's research procedures. I had to help him."

"Are you just a SOLDIER?" Cid asked. "How did you know how to create a thing like Moira?"

"For years I went in and out of various projects, following head scientists as their bodyguard. I dabbled a little with various equipment when nobody was looking, familiarizing myself with their workings out of boredom. I even took a peak at some of the files that were left out. I have to say, I was quite appalled by how inhumane and unethical ShinRa's scientific ethos was. But, like a good little soldier, I kept my mouth shut and followed orders, accepting the paychecks and just being plain happy for having three meals a day and a roof over my head. It was better than scratching out an existence in the slums, just trying to survive… You all know of the Mythril, right?"

AVALANCHE nodded, but Tifa was the only one who said something. "When we were researching in Cosmo Canyon, we found out that Mythril is… connected to the Promised Land, right? It comes from the Planet, the Planet holds the Lifestream, and the Lifestream can connect the people with the Promised Land?"

Jethro nodded. "It used to be hypothetical, but was proven in some of ShinRa's first experiments. A lot of talk went around about utilizing Mythril to try and somehow contact the extinct Cetra to find the Promised Land of Mako and all that. I don't know why it took so long to actually start, but when it did, it wasn't long before a lot of time was invested into seeing if Mythril could be used to somehow develop super weapons, as well. A project began and they found out that the Lifestream itself could be reached, but just when they were on the verge of a breakthrough, Meteor hit and pretty much everybody involved with the project was killed, or never looked back. I had a look at their final recordings and that's how I got the idea to put a highly-concentrated compound of Mythril, Materia, and other chemical compositions in a doll. My hunch was correct, and Moira was born. We had a man-made WEAPON in our hands, a WEAPON that theoretically had the power of the entire Lifestream."

"You created that thing," Yuffie spoke up, "But you had no idea what it was really capable of? Do you have any idea what you've done? What you've unleashed on the world?"

"Zeb and I were desperate for anything we might be able to use to kill the invincible AVALANCHE. We never even began to fathom that it could be anywhere near as powerful as it turned out to be, we didn't even know what to expect when that doll first opened its eyes. We thought we could control it, manipulate it, or at least reason and bargain with it to work for us. At first, it seemed like it, too. It seemed to follow me more than Zeb because I was the one that… 'gave it life,' so I was chosen to be its… master, pretty much."

"Moira is actually an amalgam of souls," Jethro continued. "The dominant one is the little girl who I'm sure you, Miss Kisaragi, are quite familiar with. She is without a doubt the most powerful and is the easiest to manipulate due to her age and innocence, but tires easily and is quite difficult to work with in that she is only a child who doesn't understand how every little thing works like grown-ups do. Keep in mind that I don't have all the answers. I found out what I did by observation and the information told to us by the souls. I have no idea why she is so powerful, maybe she actually is a Cetra and the other souls kept that from us in some elaborate conspiracy, who knows?

"At first we thought that there was only one soul, but then the others started showing up. I've counted three so far, but I'm certain that there's many more. We're talking the entire plane of Paradise here, mind you." Jethro turned to Yuffie. "Actually, one of these souls is somebody else who you should know."

Yuffie lowered her head. "My mother."

Jethro raised a brow. "Yes, but, how do you know that?"

Yuffie frowned, remembering the dreams she had of her mother. "I just do, okay? Let's keep it at that."

"Okay," Jethro said with a shrug, "But I don't know what your mother has to do with all this. Anyways, when Zeb and I realized that we had a link to Paradise and every soul in it, we found that we could actually communicate with Zeb's family. Well, sort of. I didn't have the heart to tell Zeb how miserable his family actually is in this Paradise, or so Moira told me. This was when I believe that Zeb began his descent into madness. I originally made Moira to fight for us, but after Zeb talked to his deceased daughter—or whoever that really was—for the first time, he started going into all these old ShinRa files without telling me anything about it. Oh, I forgot to mention that Neo-ShinRa was already up and running and we joined their ranks for the extra help. At first we only had public files and office documents to sift through, but after joining Neo-ShinRa, we got direct access to the ShinRa headquarters' archive facility.

Jethro sighed at the memory. "Zeb spent almost every waking hour researching all the files he could get his hands on. When he first started, it was just everything he could find out about AVALANCHE as your numbers grew, but as time went on and he began speaking more with Moira whenever I let her out, he started rambling about projects with Jenova and the Promised Land and I suspect his mind has been twisted to the point of aspiring to bring extinction to life as we know it. I lost true respect for that man… I don't know if Moira is still working for him and Neo-ShinRa even after I left, but if so, then… may the gods help us."

Cid sighed. "Well, I guess neither of you blew up my airship, then."

"They didn't," Vincent suddenly said, causing everyone to turn to him, "It wouldn't make any sense for Cleon to have set the charges. Not only would he not have any real motive, but he wouldn't have had anywhere to bring them onboard, he didn't even bring a bag with him. And I agree with Tifa about Jethro having proven his worth long before. They couldn't have done it, but I think I know who did. Whatever is following us, I'm now sure that they are people—or humanoids at the very least—because they were able to set off the explosion that caused the avalanche."

"Wait, wait, wait…" Jethro interrupted. "I might have an idea who they are! You see, when Neo-ShinRa started I, uh… I hired a group of mercenaries because of how talented they were and for their potential usefulness. I don't know where they got their abilities… but they really are a gifted bunch and very professional, even to the point of wearing matching futuristic-looking uniforms. There's four of them. One is able to teleport through a black organic smoke and is one of the best swordswomen I've ever seen; another can create and manipulate fire; one wields dual pistols with sharp shooting efficiency and runs with lightning speed to boot; and their leader wields a Wutai invention— a pole arm that can also fire high-caliber bullets. They all have the reflexes and strength equivalent to that of an advanced 1st Class SOLDIER from what I've observed."

"Oh gawd. Great idea, blondie! How the hell are we supposed to fight something like that?!"

"Well, hopefully we won't have to, Miss Kisaragi. I was enticed to acquire their services because of their professionalism and reputation for unwavering loyalty and unquestioning obedience to orders from their superiors. Though they were eventually reassigned to bolster Don Corneo's security forces at the Costa del Sol reactor, I was still the one who hired them, I was the one who gave them a big, fat steady pay check, and, luckily, I instituted an override order for them to follow, just in case. As they're mercenaries, I'm sure they continued following Neo-ShinRa for the Gil, but I'm hoping they've remembered my override order… but even then, I'm still hoping that they'd follow it. I uh, can't be sure."

Cid crossed his arms. "Shit, well that's pleasant news… Goddammit, I need a smoke," he grumbled, going through all his pockets, but to no avail. "Aww, don't tell me..." All his cigarettes were on the airship and the airship was long gone. He let out a heavy sigh and scratched the back of his head.

Suddenly, a red pack landed on his lap. Cid widened his eyes at the gift from the gods, looking up to see Cleon zipping his chest pocket back up, giving the sky captain a nod.

"Holy sh... Cleon, you're a lifesaver, boy!" He quickly opened up the flap to see that it was nearly full and pulled out one of the long cigarettes. "100s! Ha ha, I like this kid." He made a motion to return the pack back, but Cleon shook his head.

"Keep it," Cleon offered.

Cid's gigantic grin was the best answer he could give, and he stuck the stick of tobacco in his mouth.

"Need a light?" Cleon asked, raising his Materia-laced wristband.

Cid batted a brow, searching the boy's face for any signs of a joke, but Cleon was completely serious.

"Uh..." A full-on Fire 3 spell would ignite Cid's face more than the cigarette. "N-naw, that's a'right. Thanks though," Cid said before using the bonfire to light up. He blew out the smoke and turned to Jethro. "Hey Jethro, those mercenaries you talked about and that override code you said... what if it won't work? I'm pretty sure they've seen ya hanging around with us plenty of times by now while they were following us."

"Well again, they're professionals. Real technical and all that. I'm guessing I'd have to say the override code to their faces to get them on our side. I originally commissioned them, so I... _should_ still be their boss, technically. This override code was for them to follow me and me only, that no matter whose orders they are currently following, I have superior authority over them, no matter what. Drop whatever they are doing and whomever they're currently following and do what I say. I couldn't stress that enough with them, so I hope... well yes, you get the idea."

"What is the override code?" Tifa asked.

"I called it, 'Order 66.' You guys can give it a try should I not be around. Just say that I told you to say it, but I imagine that I myself would have to be the one to actually tell them."

"Y'know," Yuffie scoffed, "These 'mercenaries' sound like robots or cyborgs or something…"

Jethro shrugged. "I guess that's a fair theory. It _would_ explain their powers, but not their thirst for money."

"Well, maybe they need it to buy oil." A few chuckles abounded at Yuffie's joke. "So anyways, when they pop out, we just scream, _'Jethro told us to tell you Order 66!' _Right? Y'know maybe we'd have better chances if we said your whole name or something." Yuffie rested her head on her knees, but it wasn't long before a relevant question crossed her mind and she lifted her head. "Hey Jethro, what _is_ your last name, anyway? Your _full _name, while we're at it?"

Jethro chuckled. "None of you would be able to pronounce it if you even tried."

"Aww, what is it?"

"I'm telling you…"

Cid scoffed. "C'mon, let's at least hear it."

"Very well," Jethro conceded, pausing with a smirk almost as if he were remembering how to pronounce it himself. Finally he replied, "My full name is Jethro Åkerstedt-Stahlhamdske."

"…"

"Told you."

"My brain hurts now," Yuffie muttered. She glanced at Cleon across the bonfire. "Is _your _last name as insane as his?"

Cleon knitted his brows and shrugged.

Cid scratched his head. "Hey Cleon, by the way that reminds me, what was that you said back at the airship yesterday about you having amnesia?"

"I didn't. You were the one who suggested I might have amnesia, I was the one that said I don't remember anything from before five years ago."

"Well yeah, you know what I mean. What's up with that? What do you remember?"

"Well, I was in a laboratory and got released by this geezer with a really annoying voice."

AVALANCHE traded confused glances, questioning the clarity of his statement. Cid was the one to ask the unspoken inevitable. "No really, what do you remember?"

"I'm serious-leh. After he let me go, I left that place. I think it was called, 'Nibelheim.'"

The others were shocked.

"Nibelheim?" Tifa asked. "You said five years go? Does that… then you're… you must be…"

Jethro placed a hand on Cleon's shoulder. "Show them your tattoo. The one on the back of your neck."

"Hold the phone… I got a tattoo on the back of my neck?!"

"I saw that before," Yuffie said, "Back at Junon! Jethro, what are you getting at?"

Jethro's answer was turning to Cleon and giving him a nod. Cleon thinned his eyes, puzzled by the tattoo's existence, and shifted around to lower the collar of his parka to show everybody. He exposed a black marking, _'VIII.'_

There were a few gasps from the others.

"Number eight?" Tifa asked. "You're…"

"A Sephiroth Clone," Jethro finished for her. "I know, I was involved in the project as one of Professor Hojo's body guards. I recognized Cleon from when I saw him in a stasis tube. The experiments conducted on him may be why he may seem a little weird to you. The Jenova cells that course through his veins are probably why he can seem a little… strange."

"So… he's a clone of Sephiroth?" Yuffie asked, unclear on the matter.

"No, no, it just means that he's got Jenova cells in him. It was all part of Hojo's experiment. And I know what you're probably thinking and please don't ask me to explain it. I'm not a scientist."

Yuffie scratched her head. "Okay, so he's not a clone of Sephiroth… but he's got cells from Jenova? Or… wait, Sephiroth's genes? Or… ugh, I'm confused."

"He has the cells of Jenova," Vincent explained, "But 'clone' is a misnomer. Sephiroth Clones are not actual clones of Sephiroth, but rather those that carry the cells of Jenova, which Sephiroth could exert his will through to control them as puppets. Those townspeople that survived the Nibelheim Incident were rounded up by Hojo and injected with Jenova Cells to test Jenova's ability to recall her scattered cells in what Hojo called his 'Reunion Theory.' There were at least twelve known test subjects marked with numbers, the ones who became proper slaves. But there were also many regarded as 'failures'— those that kept a shred of their former personalities."

"Cleon was labeled a success," Jethro added, "But in actuality, really was a failure. I know that because I saw him pretend to be a mindless soul to avoid being left to die. I never said anything for his benefit."

"Wow," Yuffie scoffed, "Guess he's smarter than he looks. Guess it's Hojo's fault for making him lose like, half of his sanity..."

All this talk of Nibelheim made Tifa think harder than anyone else, about the recent inexplicable phenomenon she had about Cloud which was actually the third time she had such a strange vision in the last couple of days, each time the incidents becoming clearer, more vivid, and more emotionally painful. She missed him with a passion, and couldn't wrap her mind around why he was taken away from her. She wanted to know more, and Jethro seemed to be the one to give her the answers.

"Jethro," Tifa interrupted the conversation, "I want to know… about Cloud. Why did they take him? What could they possibly want with him?"

Jethro raised the side of his lip, trying to find a proper response. "Well, my guess is that since Zeb was so adamant in getting a hold of the Cetra, Cloud's relationship with your old friend Aerith made Cloud such a desirable target. Must be why he was able to be spirited away… remember how I said that you could only be kept in Moira's 'dreamland' if you had a connection to anybody dead? He won't awaken, and neither will Barret, Nanaki, or Reeve, until we… kill Moira."

Tifa sighed. "Then we'll just have to take Moira down, won't we?" she encouraged.

"But like I said back at the Gold Saucer, I'm not sure how to do that."

There was a pregnant pause around the campfire, everyone more or less thinking about the same thing. Vincent was the only one with an answer.

"Jethro," he started, all eyes turning to the gunslinger. "Moira has the Mythril in her body. What happens if its taken out?"

Jethro raised his brows. "Now that sounds like it could work."

"But how the heck do we that to something that can just blink in and out of harm's way so easily?" Yuffie asked. "Sounds like we'll have to corner Moira somehow, but... again, how?"

"Could try for a distraction and then one of us comes up from behind," Cleon suggested. "A… distraction…"

There was a long pause from everybody as many quick glances were traded.

"…Not it."

"Not it!"

"Not it!"

"Not it."

"Not it, dammit!"

"Not it...?"

"What? Wait, not—!"

Everyone beat Yuffie, who was too late to even get to 'it'. Even Vincent said it, before her no less. All eyes turned to the little ninja and the surprised, offended glare she was giving everybody, her friends waiting for her to say something.

Yuffie turned to stare at Vincent beside her with disbelief. "Even you?!"

"Even Vince?" Cid echoed. "Hell, even the Snow said it!"

The little ninja huffed, appalled at the unfairness of it all. "Oh yeah, me as a distraction! I'll just throw on Vinnie's cloak and dance around singing pop songs, that'll turn Moira's head, won't it?"

Cleon scoffed. "It's better than throwing on his cloak and sucking blood like a vampire—"

"THERE'S NO SUCH THING AS VAMPIRES!"

--

_"Zebadiah Mahonney, you have been brought before this board for your suspected conspiratorial intentions and therefore treason against Neo-ShinRa. What do you have to say for yourself?"_

Two uniformed troopers stood guard against the man in the chair, their rifles aimed at him should he try anything funny. Zeb was seated alone in front of the wide desk in before him, staring back with a smirk at the many faces. He was under a bright light in the heat-radiated office of the Neo-ShinRa executives, the only room in the base with extra thick walls for protection to serve as a VIP shelter. Heidegger was in the middle with Palmer to his right, the other six executives seated on either side. Havern Glaire walked around from behind the table and continued.

"Don't just sit there feigning innocence with that quiet treatment, Mahonney." She held up a book and an envelope for him to see. "We have indisputable evidence of your plots, right here. It was foolish of you to maintain a record of all your thoughts and plans. Now answer me! Why do you wish to bring back Jenova? What is all this scribbling about bringing another Meteor to hit the Planet? What are these mercenaries— Loz, Yazoo, and Kadaj looking for?"

Zeb began chuckling. It was a diabolical gurgle, slowly raising into a laugh of matching sinisterness. "Your 'Promised Land of Mako'… lies! A fool's fantasy, a far-fetched dream of negative validity! There is no Promised Land. Only Paradise!"

Heidegger snarled, pounding a fist onto the table. "You were tasked with reaching the Ancients through this ridiculous doll of yours! You promised we could get to the Mako once we acquired the one man that could connect us with that blasted dead flower girl Cetra. We have Strife now, where are the results?! It said in your early entries that this was your aim, but as the pages dragged on, you slowly began altering your plans. What happened?!"

Zeb gave a wide smirk and raised his gaze to the ceiling above.

"Are you mad? I'm beginning to believe these rumors of your growing insanity more and more, you hack! Did all that research you did make you lose your mind or something?"

"Reaching the Promised Land could have only been possible with Meteor. Meteor was designed to hit the heart of the Planet. You idiots call this place Midgar. This Promised Land does not physically exist anywhere. It has to be _created... _by Meteor! That is what I believed at first, and what you all would have believed as well if you had read the same thing. Meteor would have to be repelled at the exact, precise moment before it obliterated the Planet. Not too late for Aerith to stop it, but not too soon as to prevent the Planet from permanently coursing in enough Mako from the Lifestream to repair itself. Then this unlimited stream of Mako would be harvested for all time, never ceasing because the Planet would ooze it constantly to repair its heart, but the healing streams would forever be intercepted by Neo-ShinRa's turbines. It would never end. Does not that sound perfect? Perfect to create the Promised Land of Mako? It did to me.

"But I've seen the truth. It is your fault that you all failed to see it sooner. The actuality of this _'Promised Land' _would have been revealed to you once Meteor hit on the Chosen Day last month. But you did not let it hit. And, you made them angry in the Negative Lifestream for not letting it cleanse this vile, impure terrestrial rock. You failed to see the truth, but my eyes have been opened!"

"What the hell are you talking about? You are making no sense! You keep contradicting yourself, as if you are… Whom are you speaking for? You're talking like you are more than one person, more than one viewpoint. You're insane. And what, what is it here with… something about finding the souls of your family and reuniting them with their bodies? That's what you've wasted a month's worth of Neo-ShinRa's time, manpower, and funding for? Those stupid corpses in those test tubes?!"

"Stupid corpses? Those 'stupid corpses' are my wife and daughter! They are worth a million times your weights in gold! You are all nothing. Nothing, I say! None of you deserve Paradise, but they do. But instead they are suffering… in the Negative Lifestream. It has tainted Paradise with Jenova's vile pollution, twisting the minds of all those lost souls. It has become an aimless purgatory devoid of any comforting warmth, where souls are unable to be accepted into the true Lifestream, unless they atone for their lives and are rid of the taint… don't you see?! That is what those four traitors wanted! They were tainted. They were bad. They wanted to cleanse this planet by triggering a world war the likes of which we've never seen. They wanted us to kill ourselves off so they could have started a new one; a 'pure' one in their eyes, one ruled by the Calamity from the Skies and her 'perfect son.' And they tricked us into doing their dirty deeds.

"But we made them pay, didn't we? We made them pay for lying. Just like you all lied to us. There is nothing in this land, just a sweltering sand… Now everyone must pay… all those who've led us astray… True Paradise is just for us… nothing more to discuss…"

Heidegger scowled. "Are you… are you speaking in rhymes? Stop that, it's absurd."

"Not to mention really annoying," added Palmer.

"I've heard enough," moaned Havern. She turned to the two guards. "Take him away. Perhaps a couple of days alone in a holding cell…" There was a steady pounding at the thick metallic door of the room, fluctuating between strong and weak. "What is it now?!" she groused, motioning for the woman standing guard at the door to open it.

She unlocked the dead bolts and threw it open, looking left and right to see an empty hall. She then shot her head down as a hand gripped her ankle. Another trooper laid there on his belly in a puddle of his own blood.

"Help… me…" he pleaded, straining up at her.

"What is it?" Heidegger demanded.

"General Glaire!" the female guard shouted before stepping out into the hall, readying her rifle at something further down the hall.

Havern ran up to the doorway. "Stay in this room and lock the door!" she shouted back with a point, glancing back and forth between the executives and the distant muffled echoing of screams and gunfire. "We're under attack, AVALANCHE is here!" She ignored the dying trooper, stepping over him and joining with other guards running towards the sounds of battle.

"Shut that door!" Palmer ordered the two guards.

They began running towards the door to follow the order but didn't make it far when they stopped dead in their tracks at the sudden sound of a low, sinister laugh. All eyes turned to the ex-rebel leader sitting in the chair, his head down and his silver bangs over his face. He continued laughing in the same low, baleful way as he looked up.

"What is so funny-funny, Mahonney?" Palmer questioned.

A disturbing smirk crossed Zeb's lips. "Advent is rising, your time is demising, this will be something you'll all find surprising…"

"Stay down!" one of the guards ordered as they both pointed their guns at him.

Zeb merely stood up with his arms slowly raising, his laugh now increased to an unsettling cackle.

"Sit down!" the guards continued shouting over and over. "Sit down, now!"

"What is he doing?" one of the executives asked, rising from his own seat out of caution. The others began following suit, a couple even beginning to back up for the door.

The guards continued shouting as Zeb's arms raised for the heavens.

"Prepare yourselves, lo and behold; it has begun, the bells have tolled! You ALL shall pay the final sum! CRY FOR MERCY, YOUR RECKONING HAS COME!"

Zeb's piercing cachinnation resounded inhumanly from wall to wall.

"Shut him up," Heidegger commanded the two guards, "Shoot him! Shoot!"

They quickly took aim and unloaded their magazines on Zeb's frame. He was still laughing; undeterred by the many wounds forming all over his torso. A slimy tentacle exploded out of his mouth and his body burst into a disgustingly unctuous green mass, his size swelling to gargantuan proportions. The muffled cackling continued on as the room was completely enveloped by the sickening monstrosity.

--

"This is it," the Snow said. "The town which you seek is just over that hill. I will go no further."

Tifa stepped up to the Snow with a small bow. "We can't thank you enough for your help."

"Make sure the world stays in one piece and we'll call it even. Farewell," it bade with a bow, "And good luck to you all." With that, it faded away into the falling snow.

Tifa sighed and spun around. "Alright. Let's mosey."

They resumed traversing across the wintry landscape for the hill about half mile ahead. They were in a low-lying area of land, a valley snaked with crevices and passes leading through. Though a perfect place to get ambushed by anything, it was the fastest way by far so they remained on their course while maintaining a steady vigilance on the ledges above their heads.

Yuffie was in the rear with Vincent and Jethro. "What is he doing now?" Yuffie asked, watching Cleon ahead perform his OCD-induced touching of mounds. "He's such a nut ball …"

"No," Jethro chuckled, "After all that I've seen of him, I wouldn't call him crazy. I'd say he's more of an… eccentric."

"What's the difference? Doesn't 'eccentric' mean 'weird'?"

"I'm reminded of an old quote that should explain it well. It goes something like… '_Eccentricity is not, as dull people would have us believe, a form of madness. It is often a kind of innocent pride, and the man—_'"

Jethro jumped forward and Yuffie pulled Vincent back as tons of ice and snow suddenly crashed down from above to form a thick, artificial wall several meters in height. The rumbling echoed across the entire valley, the white dust blanketing the icy trenches with an artificial haze. Yuffie coughed, waving the snowy dust from her face and stood up with Vincent to see the new wall before them.

"Oh great, we're cut off from the others. Hey! Tifa, Cid, are you guys okay?" They heard a faint reply far away on the other side saying something to the affirmative. It was hard to hear their words with the distance and sound-drowning barricade. "Doesn't look too high. Alright, let's just jump this thing and regroup. Wonder what caused this thing, anyway- oh crap, the mercenaries did it, didn't they?"

"Get ready, Yuffie, they're going to come for us first because we're the smaller group."

Yuffie let out a small whine as she and Vincent raised their weapons, ready to defend themselves. "Oh my gawd wait, what was the name of the override order again?"

Vincent pushed Yuffie and himself out of the way of the barrage of gunfire raining down from above.

Yuffie landed on her side with a grunt, but she immediately shot up and waved frantically at the shadowy figures above concentrating their fire on Vincent. "No wait! Wait! We know Jethro!"

She yelped as a blade suddenly swiped for her neck out of nowhere. A sinewy puff of dark smoke dissolved in front of her followed by a series of sporadic, similar puffs pulsing all around her in a disorientation tactic. Each pulse made a distinct wispy hiss that she tried to follow with her ears and it worked, as she ducked another slash from behind. Yuffie somersaulted forward and flung her shuriken at the latest billow but it cut through blankly, becoming embedded into the snowy barricade.

She hear a tap behind her, spun around, and was surprised to see a small, petite redheaded girl standing there. She wore a gray-shaded body suit with geometrical patterns of blue lines dotting her uniform and couldn't have been no older than fourteen or fifteen. The girl then extended her palms forward and a raging pillar of fire shot forth towards Yuffie.

"Whoa!" Yuffie squeaked while diving out of the way. "Hey stop it, we know Jethro! Y'know, Jethro?! As in Jethro… Aww hell, what was his last name again?! Jethro Asker- daddy shibidibleh!"

The puff came back and a girl with a face mask appeared before her wielding a swift-looking sword. Yuffie dodged the flowing cadence of slashes and managed to deliver a retaliatory defensive kick, but her masked adversary teleported out of harm's way at the last second, instantly reappearing a meter further down. The masked girl then switched her sights for Vincent when said gunslinger gained her attention with a swipe from his golden claw.

"Come on, ya retarded cows, don't ya speak English?! We know Jethro!"

A longhaired teenager wielding a poleaxe jumped down from above in front of her.

"Jethro! Y'know, the blonde perv?!"

Her foe brandished his weapon with a sequence of intimidating spins and charged at her. Yuffie gritted her teeth, raised her fists, and prepared to defend herself.

"Morado!" Jethro cried out the attacker's name as he stepped in front of Yuffie. "Order 66!"

The fighting and deafening gunfire suddenly ceased as all eyes turned to Jethro. Jethro glanced around at the four attackers as they slowly walked forward.

"I command you all to execute Order 66!" Jethro repeated with authority.

There was a pause, nothing to hear but the wind. Then just like that, the four mercenaries nodded, dropped their attack stances, and approached the heroes in peace, all finding their separate places to stand.

Cid, Tifa, and Cleon jumped down from the wall to join their friends.

"Unbelievable…" Cid muttered as he walked up alongside Tifa. "_These _are the mercenaries? They're just kids! Don't even look that much older than Yuffie!"

"Hey!" Yuffie snapped.

"Please," Jethro interrupted to quiet them down. He then turned to the four mercenaries, who had all formed up before him already. "Morado, Jaune, Zelen, Sorrel," he greeted each by name.

"Mr. Åkerstedt-Stahlhamdske," they all returned the greeting with a bow. Much to the surprise of the others, these four kids pronounced Jethro's surname perfectly.

"So wait, wait, no way," Yuffie said, waving her arms around to get everybody's attention, "So what happens now? They just tried to kill us, now they're gonna be on our side and help us fight, just like that? No strings attached, no epic contest or a showdown…?"

"Precisely," Jethro nodded. "Just like that. It's refreshing, isn't it?"

Yuffie scratched her head for a moment as if giving it some thought. "Well… yeah, it really is, actually."

With an exhausted sigh, Jethro then turned to face the four. "We don't have much time, but we've a lot to discuss. Tell me everything you know."

* * *

**Author's note: Good news and bad news. First the bad news.**

**I've postponed joining the Marines until October due to reasons of morbid obesity and cigarette-related health issues. :P**

**Good news— this means more **_**Beyond Paradise **_**(It's almost finished, too, yaaaay)****and quite possibly, the **_**On the Way to a Smile: Case of the (STILL CENSORED)**_** novella side story. Next chapter is still swimming in my mind and not yet on paper, but guess what, my dreaded big 2-0 is coming up on the 30****th****, and I really want to have it up before that time before I'm passed out on the floor mumbling something about chocobos. Keep your eyes peeled for Chapter 36: The One Where They're Supposed to Have the Final Showdown But Enjoy a Delicious Cup of Tea, Instead.**


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